


Come from Hell

by Hyndara71



Series: Hell-Series [2]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-01-25 00:43:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 65,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1622843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hyndara71/pseuds/Hyndara71
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2/2 While Christian tries to help Nick and Adalind flee from Eric, Sean Renard makes a shocking discovery. Hank accused of murder and in costudy, needs the help from the GrimmGang. And Juliette starts the journey of her life to learn to understand what happened to her. AU, Violence, Whump</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Awakening

Disclaimer: Grimm is the property of NBC, Universal, GKProductions, Hazy Mills Production and a lot of others. I don't own anything, beside the idea.

A/N: 1. It's been a while and for me personally a struggle. But I stand for my given word. Here we go, the second part of the "Hell"-series starts right now. I hope you will enjoy it :). And, just to make this sure, with this part the story will end, no cliffhanger in the last chapter.

2\. Thanks again a lot to MerlynPyndragon for her help betaing also this fanfiction. Gal, you rock!

3\. And I will give you a warning! This time there will be a fair amount of violence in the story!

This fanfic I dedicate to my father, who's birthday would be today. I miss you, Dad!

 

Two Hours earlier:

"Juliette, would you mind speaking with me in private?" Sean Renard asked.

Juliette Silverton looked at him, then at Monroe, still so sad and worried, holding Rosalee's hand. Wu on his lonesome watch near the door, trying to avoid looking into the face of the zombiefied Fuchsbau.

What could she do? They had to wait until Rosalee woke up and started her rampage before they could cure her. And the treatment was already ready and awaiting to do its job in the huge needled syringe.

She nodded and followed Sean out of the back room, into the closed shop front.

"What's up?" she asked.

Sean had turned his back on her. Holding his cellphone to his ear, he listened and then said, "You can ask herself, she's with me." With that he turned around and gave his iPhone to Juliette.

She took it, baffled, but held it to her ear. "This is Juliette Silverton. To whom am I speaking?"

"This is a friend of Sean Renard's," a whispering voice answered. "I am looking for the Grimm. I believe he's your fiance?"

Juliette's heart missed a beat. She turned around, feeling her cheeks redden. "Do you know something about Nick?" she asked hastily. "Do you know where he is?"

"Not precisely no," the voice told her. "But he's here. I am the one who discovered his jacket. And I doubt he would have left it behind."

Juliette smiled. The windbreaker she gave to Nick as an early birthday present. Luckily she gave it to him so early, otherwise it would be another heartbreaking memory she would have to fight opening the closet ...

"Listen, I think I know where the Grimm is," the voice told her. "Sean told me something about your condition. Is it true? And ... am I allowed to tell it to your fiance? It could help him."

"I already gave my permission and yes, it is true. I carry Nick's child. Do you need to know more?"

A sigh, then the caller took a deep breath. "The prince is up to something. Maybe he found out about your pregnancy, I'm not sure. But he definitely contacted the Cracher-Mortal again. I assume, this time he may come for you. Be careful and always be in company. I think I don't have to tell you how dangerous the Baron is."

It was like a door to her soul opened by listening to his words. A deep and dark hate slowly swelled inside her.

So, this time they wanted to come for her? They would have to pay a high price to get her.

"I'll be careful," she said.

"I've got to go now. Tell Sean that I'll let him know as soon as I find out."

"Your help is much appreciated," Juliette said and heard a click right before the connection died.

Her eyes were burning and she felt relieved and angry at the same time.

Nick was alive but a captive, and now, maybe because he didn't cooperate the way this Royal wanted, they wanted to come for her? The dark hatred inside her festered ...

"Juliette?" Sean asked with a soft voice.

She took another deep breath and turned around, straightening herself. "I'm okay." Her eyes fell on the gun Sean had in his hand now. She lifted her eyebrows. "What's that for?"

Sean stepped closer, holding the gun by the barrel and offering it to her. "I want you to carry a weapon from now on," he said. "Juliette, this is important. If Eric tries to get you ..."

"The last time I had a gun in my hands I shot you out of my house," Juliette said, giving him the cellphone back.

"Nick taught you well." Sean's voice was warm now. "Please, take it."

She didn't like guns. But he was right, she needed a weapon.

Juliette looked at the counter of the shop. There laid a huge kitchen knife she probably left after she mixed the treatment for Rosalee and looked here for some ingredients. She hesitated a second, then grabbed the knife and showed it to Sean. "I fear this is more of a weapon for me," she said. Opening her bag she put the knife into it.

Sean frowned. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Juliette nodded. The cold hatred inside her was bubbling. "I am. And now we should figure out who shall take the shifts to watch over Rosalee," she decided.

**********************************

One hour earlier:

Christian peeked around the corner of the hallway, watching the two Severin cousins walking down it. With another look he made sure there was no surveillance anywhere near before he followed themhesitately.

When he saw them down in the kitchen locking the small freezer and leaving, he decided it was time to find out what they were hiding. And his suspicion about the renovated tower was right: the Severins went directly to the entrance of it. Taking the small staircase inside it, they moved up to one of the higher levels before leaving the stairs.

Thanks, Magda, Christian thought. As quiet as possible he followed the cousins, always ready to jump into the next doorstep to hide as best as he could. And he didn't have to follow much longer. The cousins stopped at one of the closed doors.

Christian found another cell nearby unlocked and slipped inside. There was a vile odor hanging about but it was the best hideout he could find right now. He put his ear against the door and listened very carefully.

There was a male voice he didn't know, dark and warm and very plain. "I need to see the Prince," this voice said.

Christian frowned. He'd never heard the Grimm speak. All he had was a blurry picture of him, which Sean had sent him right after said Grimm went missing. So he couldn't make out if this was the person he had searched for two months now or not.

"The prince is probably busy," drawled one of the cousins in a heavy accent.

"I NEED to talk to him. NOW!" the unfamiliar voice said in a sharp tone.

Christian bit his lips. Silently he wished the cousins would leave now so he could find out who was imprisoned here. The smell in the cell he was in was nearly overwhelming.

Dear God, was something rotting in here?

Christian risked a look around but didn't spot anything, only a little scratch mark on one of the walls. High, small windows, a pallet against one side. But underneath the odor he could sense something else, another smell. Sharp and all too familiar with two Grimm in the castle: the smell of another Grimm.

A third Grimm here? His feeling grew that he had finally found who he was looking for.

"Geh und hol ihn," he heard one of the cousins say.

"Warum ich? Du kannst ihn ebensogut holen gehen. Ich war das letzte Mal da unten," said the other Grimm.

Christian listened and hoped for a second that both would leave. But finally, after an argument about who would do more and who would be too lazy to do his work correctly, the bigger of them, Franz, left, while the other stood waiting at the cell.

Christian sighed softly

So close and yet so far away ...

*****************************

Fifteen minutes earlier:

Eric Renard was about to leave the castle when there was a knock at the door. He looked up, frowning, and thought for a moment. This was not the right time to disturb him. He wanted to drive to a dinner he was invited to by Adalind Schade. She had told him she had big news and a surprise for him. Well, hopefully she didn't want to tell him he was the father of her unborn child because he could sense it wasn't his. On the other hand she could have a real surprise for him. His private secretary, Christian, had suggested she may have something really surprising for him. Christian was always well informed all the time, and, although he would never say that aloud, he trusted the little man. That half-Maushertz knew what was good for him.

On the other hand, there still was the sick Grimm in one of the cells. If the venom didn't kick in the right way, it could kill Nick Burkhardt. Last time Eric had checked on his prisoner the Grimm seemed slowly to regenerate, but was still weak. So ...

No, this could be important!

"Come in!" he ordered.

The door opened and Franz Severin, one of the two Grimm he set up as guards over Burkhardt, entered the room.

So his suspicion was right.

Eric turned to the Grimm and looked at his face very seriously. "Any news? Is he better?"

Franz nodded. "He seems to be getting back to normal pretty quickly, your highness. He sent me here. He wants to talk to you, saying it's important."

Eric sighed.

Nick really had to work on his timing after he joined Eric's forces. This was the third time he would be late to a meeting, or would have to leave early like he did in the first time.

"I'm coming," he said.

Adalind always tend to be late herself, so there was no need to be at the restaurant early. She'd better learn that he wasn't her servant. Well, hopefully this little comedy would end soon ...

But talking about lessons, maybe it was the time for Nick to get another one. Maybe he should witness what would happen to his fiance back in Portland, or sooner or later here, if he didn't cooperate.

Eric had already sent the needed papers to bring Juliette Silverton the same way to Austria as he did before with Nick Burkhardt. Well, not exactly the same, as this time the Baron would watch over her while she came via cargo-flight directly to Vienna. Hopefully, in a couple of days, Eric would have the right medium then to control his new Grimm.

He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and used the speed-dial while he followed Franz to the renovated tower, his personal little Grimm-prison.

"Qui?" the dark and silky voice of the Cracher-Mortal answered after picking the call.

"Good evening, my dear Baron," Eric greeted his associate. "I hope the papers arrived in time?"

"They did," the voice told him. "I'm at her home now, waiting. She will be here soon."

Well, that would be a pleasant gift to teach his new Grimm the needed lesson.

"You wouldn't mind me letting the Grimm listen to your beautiful performance, do you?" Eric asked, climbing the stairs. "Could be exactly what he needs right now."

The Baron laughed. "She's arriving here now," he said. "And, of course, you are very welcome to listen and let him listen, your highness."

Franz looked back over his shoulder, then stepped aside and let Eric through the small hallway.

"I am sure this will be very entertaining, Baron," Eric smiled. "Oh, I just talked to your daughter today. She's all her father."

"She is. Eloise will follow me one day in the business. I'm glad you like her," the Cracher/Mortal said.

Well, not exactly liking. But Eloise Freda was definitely an interesting character and her special ability, as her father's, could cause a lot of havoc. To be true, she wasn't the Baron's real daughter, she was more special, and so he adopted and raised her as his own. But she wasn't a Cracher-Mortal like the Baron and his sons. No, she was something also interesting ...

Hans opened the door to the cell and let Eric enter.

The Royal raised his eyebrows when he saw Nick, still ashen and sweaty, on an endless march up and down this cell, but now stopping and turning to him. Face all pale but a very serious look in his eyes.

This really was interesting!

"She's coming up to the house," the Baron informed.

And Nick sank down on his knees right before him ...

******************************************

Now:

"So, why don't you tell me?" Juliette asked with a bright smile on her face.

"Maybe later," Sergeant Wu answered and tilted his head a little. "What's up? Should I join you?" he nodded up to the house.

Juliette did another quick look. And again she saw the dark shadow in the window to the living-room.

She turned again to Wu and shook her head, grabbing her bag. "I think I can manage to put some clothes together by myself. Thank you." She smiled. A single line was growing on her forehead. "But ... be here in reach, okay?"

She felt her heartbeat speeding up when the adrenaline kicked in, and took another deep breath, wondering why Wu couldn't hear the drumrolls in her ears with the rushing of her blood as she could.

Wu nodded. "Will be." He smiled.

And Juliette opened the door and left the car. Her knees were filled with pudding and she forced herself to take the walk up the porch.

It would be so easy, she only had to turn around and call Wu to come and join her. She could again take the easiest way, the way that would risk both their lives.

This guy, Christian, to whom she'd spoken on Sean's phone, he was a real hero for warning her. But this was useless. She already felt the net closing all around her, and after the Cracher-Mortal spat Rosalee into a zombie, Juliette had made her decision. If he really wanted to come after her and Nick's baby, he would be welcomed to hell! She had been used too often, and playing the sitting duck wasn't her way to go. And with the pregnancy there also changed something inside her. Made her will stronger, herself more stubborn. If the Cracher-Mortal tried to trap and abduct her too, he should come. She would take him and teach him a lesson!

Juliette stopped at the porch, opening her bag. She took a last look back to the car, Monroe's old beetle with Sergeant Wu on the driver's seat. The Asian cop looked up to her.

Maybe she would see him now for the last time ... Or not!

Her fingers found the knife she still had in her bag, she took it and the keys, turning to the door.

It was time for a payback!

Juliette turned the key in the lock, unclosing the door and opening it.

She took a last deep breath, did another quick look over her shoulder but changed her mind. She had to stay focused now if she wanted to make this. Otherwise the Cracher-Mortal could surprise her, and that was the last thing she needed right now.

The knife in her hand but hidden in her bag, she entered her house. With one glance she cecked the stairs. Clear! She could see all the way down to the dining area, which also was clear. But she couldn't see the living-room or the kitchen.

When she saw that dark shadow the last time, he was looking out of the front window of the living room, just where Nick and she had set up their little TV area. Was he still there? Had he moved?

Juliette was lucky that the house had so much open space, but unlucky that there was enough obstruction to concel an attacker and allow him to come close to her. Close enough to spit in her face ...

Juliette stepped forward, pretending to be innocent and not knowing he was here as best as she could.

She could sense another living being around, but she still couldn't make out where.

Another step forward.

She listened, trying to figure out from where the attack could happen. The last thing she needed right now was an ambush.

She was of her rocker to think she could handle a Cracher-Mortal, the reasonable portion of her mind told her. Even Sean Renard had respect for those Wesen, leaving Monroe and Rosalee alone. This Cracher-Mortal had trapped Nick, who was on his own back then too. Nick was an experienced Grimm. what was she?

Juliette turned around the moment she heard a rustling behind her back.

"Bonjour, ma belle," the dark-skinned man with the tophat greeted her. And then ... the woge started.

Once more Juliette felt this door inside her soul open and ... she lifted the knife, throwing her bag away. With one movement she was out of the reach of the Cracher-Mortal, spinning around behind him.

"This won't be necessary," he told her, turning. "Just ..."

With a scream Juliette lurched forward, jumping on him. Her legs closing around his hips, she raised the knife while his face became that of a giant blowfish. The blade sank into his eye, right before he could spit at her.

Now it was him who screamed.

Juliette flipped over his shoulder, spun around again and drove the knife to its hilt in his back. A dark and violent growl came up her throat as she yanked the knife out of his body again.

The Cracher-Mortal staggered forward with baby-steps, whimpering.

"This is for Nick!"Juliette yelled and hammered the knife a second time into his back. Then a third and fourth time, while the Wesen's steps got weaker and weaker, his screams slowed down to a moaning, and finally he sank to the ground.

The hatred, this cold and mighty emotion, controlled her completely, and Juliette was lucky she had this anger. Embracing it, she became something she never expected to be possible.

With a last wild scream she hammered the knife into the back of his neck, turning it and slicing through flesh, the gristle, and finally, with more force, slicing through the spine as the Cracher-Mortal died, his screams drowned in blood. Juliette scramble back to her feet again, soaked in Wesen blood, his severed head in one hand, knife in the other. She was shaking and freezing and growling all at the same time.

And then she heard a tiny little voice asking: "Baron? Are you okay?"

She let head and knife slip from her hands, rushing over to the counter where a cellphone was lying, activated.

Grabbing the phone she spun around once more after she heard the door lock clicking.

"Hello?" a voice with a british accent asked on the phone.

Juliette still fought to get the control over her body and her emotions back, took another deep breath before she said: "You will get your Baron back in pieces until you return Nick to me!" With that she ended the call, looking at Wu, who just entered the house.

The sergeant stared at the mess and the headless corpse, then at the separated head before he turned to her, eyes wide, face ashen.

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Made a point," Juliette answered. With a shaky hand she whipped some hair from her face, leaving a streak of red on her forehead between all the bloody dots.

Something had changed, she realized. She had changed. She didn't feel like she felt before ...

****************************************

Austria:

Christian still was in the other cell, near to the one Eric and the two Grimm had just entered. He could see the man imprisoned there, now for the first time and also only for a few seconds, but long enough to recognize him.

He had finally found Nick Burkhardt!

Christian's stomach jumped a little in excitement while he carefully watched what was going on in the other cell, but couldn't really make out any real details thanks to the cousins Severin, who blocked his view almost completely.

Christian listened and heard Nick's voice, low and sounding a little desperate.

Then, suddenly, the scene changed abruptly. Eric stepped back, nearly bumping into the the bulky bodies of the two Grimm cousins. Christian thought he had heard something like a weak scream but wasn't sure.

Burkhardt was jumping to his feet again, trying to get after Eric.

"No! Don't do it! I'm here! I'm doing whatever you want!" the young Grimm screamed. The taller of the Severins pushed him back into the cell, while Eric still stumbled backwards with a pale face.

What was going on there?

Christian stepped back a little, still peeking through a small opening. He watched Eric now while he heard the Severins locking and blocking Burkhardt's cell.

"Baron? Are you okay?" Eric finally asked, and Christian realized the Royal was talking to a cellphone he held to his ear.

He seemed to get an answer as his face turned a little more white. The hand he held the cellphone in sank down while Eric stared into thin air, shaking and visibly shocked.

"Your highness?" the smaller of the Severins came to him, looking worried.

Eric still stared into thin air, gasping. Then he looked up. "Don't you feel it?" he asked. "Another one has just awoken. We woke her up!"

"Who?" the Grimm wanted to know.

Eric straightened his shoulders. Taking another deep breath, he regained his self control again. "Doesn't matter. One way or another, she will come here!" He turned and marched down the hallway to the staircase again.

Christian shut the door close as quietly as possible, still listening to what was going on. Footsteps were following Eric. He could hear the cousins talking with low voices, obviously confused about what they had just witnessed.

He waited until he was sure he was alone with the captured Grimm. Then he slowly opened the door again, peeked in all directions and left the cell carefully, stepping to the other one. There was a latch outside, which held a little window closed. He opened it and looked into the cell.

"Nick Burkhardt?" he whispered after he couldn't spot the Grimm.

"Another game?" a dark voice asked. "What does he have in mind now? I will give in, I will work for him, if he will leave Juliette untouched. You hear me?"

Christian frowned.

"I'm sure she's okay," he said after a short while. "So you are Nick Burkhardt, right?"

A face came up and Christian realized the Grimm had been sitting right before the door on the ground. Now he could see him clear: big blue-green eyes, dark hair, a little unshaved and pale.

"Who are you? Another one to torture me?" Nick asked.

Christian shook his head and smiled shyly. "My name is Christian, and I'm working for Sean Renard," he answered, "and you have no idea how relieved I am that I finally found you!"


	2. Surprising offer

A/N: Thanks again for all the favs and follows :). And a very, very special thanks again to MerlynPyndragon for her great work looking all of this through :).  
_________________________________________________________

Sean Renard watched how his detective, Hank Griffin, was lead to one of the police cars. He got to his own feet thinking of joining Hank, to talk to him and giving him a little hope. But one of the officers from the second precinct, which had been called in to the crime scene, stepped in his way.

"Sir, I fear I cannot let you through." The sergeant, his tag naming him 'Gonzales', shook his head. "I'm sorry."

Sean startled. "This is my crime scene, sergeant. I was here first," he said sharply.

Gonzales shrugged. "I fear it isn't anymore. Your detective is already a suspect, I doubt you want to join him in handcuffs in the backseat, sir."

Sean blinked. "Are you threatening me?"

Gonzales again shook his head. "I am following my orders, sir."

Sean saw Constance Vaurrier being led to another car.

Damn! What was going on here? Constance was his witness. He needed her to solve the case of burglaries ... Well, this case should be closed now, if her brother Remy really worked on his own like she had told him and Hank.

"What about her?" Sean asked.

Gonzales took a look over his shoulder, then turned around again. "What about her? She's a witness and accused detective Griffin of being the killer of her brother, Remy Vaurrier, who was found in the bathtub of his motel room. I think you already know that, because you were there too, right? How's the head?" He pointed at the captain's temple.

Sean had been attacked by the real killer before said killer jumped out of the window of Remy's motel room. However Hank ended up in the bathroom, and why he had fired his gun, Sean couldn't tell. He had been knocked on the head and barely conscious back then. When he finally woke up the police were already coming and the men of the second precinct had taken over the entire case, sending him with the paramedics to the ambulance.

"I'm good. And I think you should know that this is my case, sergeant," Sean said, squaring his shoulders.

Gonzales nodded, shrugged again and sighed. "Sorry, sir, but I fear, you are spoiled. You are too close to the suspect, we cannot let you near our crime scene, the suspect or the witness."

Sean blinked.

Did the guy in front of him just told him to back off and leave them alone? Him? He was a highly decorated captain and head of an entire precinct!

"I am investigating a series of burglaries, sergeant. Your vic is my suspect!" Sean told the smaller man.

Gonzales nodded again and pulled a notebook out of his jacket. "So, you were investigating these burglaries yourself, sir? That's really unusual! And how did you end up with a dead suspect and a detective with the murder weapon in his hands?"

If only he could remember!

Sean shook his head. "I don't know. But I will find out the minute you let me talk to my detective, sergeant!" Slowly the end of his patience came into sight.

Gonzales pulled a face. "I'm sorry but I can't I have to follow my orders. And these orders are clear, sir."

Sean rolled his eyes.

This guy was as adamant as Wu! Where the heck did Gonzales come from?

"What orders? From whom?" Sean demanded to know.

Gonzales put his notebook awayand slipped his hands in the side pockets of his jacket. "My captain, sir. I fear you have to talk to him first. He told us to take over everything from you and the third precinct that is somehow connected to this case."

"Are you kidding me?" Taking over everything? Who was this guy?

"I'm sorry but that's my orders, sir. And to send you from the crime scene. To quote: send him away or put him in the backseat." Gonzales sighed again, looking over his shoulder. He watched the car with Hank inside leave the parking lot of the motel.

Sean bit his lips. He couldn't believe what he just heard.

Who was this captain? Suddenly he remembered. The commissioner had sent a letter to all the precinct in and around Portland to inform them about the change in command, bringing in a new man to lead the second precinct instead of promoting a cop from one of the other precincts after Rheinhardt, the old captain, retired. Sean remembered that he was surprised to learn about this new guy but he never imaged such a rough start.

"Tell your captain he cannot take over the burglaries, that's impossible!" Sean stopped for a second, shook then his head. A sharp pain was rumbling in his injured temple. "Screw this, I'm calling him myself. Do you have his number?"

Gonzales pursed his lips, trying to look as innocent as possible. "You don't have him in your speed-dial?" he asked, surprised.

Sean gave the smaller man a warning stare. "No, I haven't. I am busy with a million other things, just in case you are interested!"

"Like working on burglaries?" Gonzales seemed somehow to enjoy this conversation. Sean didn't have a clue why.

"Will you give the number to me or not?" Sean asked sharply.

"Not necessary. The captain is on his way. He wants to take a look at the crime scene himself. He should be here any minute, sir." Gonzales grinned.

Sean's cellphone began to buzz. Pulling it out of his pocket he checked the screen to see that Wu was calling him.

"Just a second," Sean told Gonzales. He turned around and accepted the call. "Sergeant, is everything okay?" he wanted to know.

The last thing he knew was that the remaining group would split up after the Fuchsbau was healed from the zombification. Now he was getting nervous. What if the Cracher-Mortal was after Juliette, just like Christian had told him?

"Ahm, I fear we have a problem," Wu told him. "It's sort of a little messy right now but we could use your help, captain."

Sean sighed. "That's not really possible right now. Hank is just on his way to the second precinct," he said.

"What the hell did Hank do? I thought you went with him to stop him from his idiocy, captain." Wu asked.

Sean laughed humurlessy. "Hank's accused of murder, Wu. That's why he's on his way to the second precinct. Here's a sergeant, very annoying and bold, maybe you know him. His name is Gonzales."

"Rico! He's a fine guy, sir. We were in the same LARP club for a while. He's a good one."

Why oh why did he ask? And what the hell was LARP?

"But, captain, I fear I must insist you to come over to Juliette's," Wu continued. "This is really bad."

Sean rolled his eyes again. Looking over his shoulder he saw Gonzales watching him, smirking. Frowning, he turned his back to the sergeant.

"What's so important that I should come immediately instead of trying to get to Hank?" Sean wanted to know.

"Juliette just killed that Cracher-guy," Wu answered.

Sean froze. "Pardon?" he asked. "Juliette did what?"

"Juliette killed the Cracher-Mortal. The guy you all are thinking is guilty of abducting Nick," Wu repeated. "She chopped off his head."

Sean"s eyes widened. "She ..."

"With a kitchen knife," Wu said. "Head clean off. Doesn't sound any better in all variants, does it?"

Sean couldn't believe what he just heard.

Juliette, truly she could become a real badass. He had watched her when they were both under Adalind's sexual attraction-spell. And also Nick had shared one or two stories about Juliette being able to watch her own back. But killing someone?

"Are you kidding me?" Sean asked.

"I fear not, sorry. What I should do now? I don't think calling for backup or the coroner would be a clever move. True, it surely was self defense but ..." Wu stopped, obviously awaiting his answer.

Again Sean looked over his shoulder – and this time the cellphone nearly slipped through his fingers after he saw who had just parked a car and come over to the crime scene.

"Viktor?" Sean asked, baffled.

*********************************************************************

After she heard the knock Juliette crossed Wu, who was on his cellphone, to the front door and was more than relieved so see a part of Monroe's head in the door window. But after she opened the door, she suddenly felt guilty when she noticed Rosalee behind the Blutbad, still a little pale and with dark shadows underneath her eyes.

"I'm so sorry!" Juliette greeted them both. "But I didn't know who else to call ..."

Monroe sniffed and frowned. "Is Nick's mother back?" he asked. "I smell something ..."

Rosalee behind him woged into her Fuchsbau and took a breath herself. "That's not Kelly. Someone else."

Monroe turned to her. "Really?" he asked.

"I'm so sorry, Rosalee," Juliette said again, feeling really guilty.

She didn't know what to do exactly after she calmed down. Wu didn't want to call this in because, like he said, the fact that the Cracher-Mortal was stabbed several times and that she beheaded him didn't necessarily mean it was self-defense.

"You shouldn't woge, Rosi," Monroe said. "You are still a little weak."

Juliette opened the door wide to let her guests in.

Monroe sniffed again after he stepped into the house. Rosalee hesitated but finally crossed the doorstep, watching Juliette. And then ... she woged again, only to jump back to the porch immediately. "Oh my God!"

Juliette stared at the Fuchsbau. "I'm sorry. Did I hurt you in any way?" she asked.

Rosalee took a deep breath and shook her head. "You don't know it, right?" she asked. It seemed to take a lot of her to come closer again.

Monroe had turned around after he heard her. Frowning he looked at both women. "What is wrong? Juliette, are you sure Nick's mom isn't back? That smell ..."

"It's her," Rosalee told him.

Three pair of eyes stared at her.

"What?" asked Juliette and Monroe in unison.

Rosalee nodded. "Juliette, didn't you feel the change? You are a Grimm!"

Juliette stared at the Fuchsbau and shook her head. The next moment Monroe was near her, sniffing again. Startled he took a step back from her. "How is that possible?"

Juliette was confused, but then she turned around and looked again at the body in her dining room, now underneath a blanket.

She felt something had changed, that there was this anger that gave her the power and strength to do what was necessary. But ... was this how Nick felt? Did she become a Grimm because she carried his child.

"We probably should close the door before one of the neighbours sees something he shouldn't," Wu insisted. Putting his cellphone in his pocket again he turned around. "Is that Grimm-thing a sort of disease now? It looks like it's increasing. First Nick, now Juliette ..."

Rosalee finally entered the house so Juliette could close the door.

That was something she had to think about, she decided. Nick had already referred that some Grimm would think about their inheritance as a curse. But why her?

Monroe finally noticed the body in the dining room. "What happened here?" he asked and sniffed again. "Man, this was bloody!"

"I killed the Cracher-Mortal," Juliette answered. "He waited for me here."

Monroe looked at her.

Rosalee put her arm around Juliette's shoulders and turned her to the living room. "We should discuss this in private, don't you think?" she asked.

"I just called the captain," he informed them all. "I think he's on his way. I doubt I should call this in, right?"

"You shouldn't," Monroe answered.

Juliette sat down on the couch, Rosalee on her side. The Fuchsbau took her hand and smiled at her. "Do you know when you changed?" she asked.

When ... Juliette remembered the first time her anger nearly took over was when she was last at the Spice-Shop, after Christian told her about the possibility the Cracher-Mortal was coming after her. Was that the moment the Grimm awoke?

"I don't know," she finally answered.

Monroe joined them, Wu on his heels. "Man, you did some hard work on that guy," he said, sitting down at one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. "Must be pretty hard for you to do, huh?"

Juliette again thought about her answer before she shook her head. "No, don't think so. I only wanted him gone and did what I had to do." She looked up, staring at each of them separately one after the other. "I will become human again, right? I am not a real Grimm?"

Monroe and Rosalee exchanged a look, then the Fuchsabu said, "I fear it's not that easy, Juliette. Do you know of any relative of yours who could be a good candidate for a Grimm?"

"Uncle Norman was ..." Juliette shook her head. "No, no way! I don't believe that! I will get over it and turning normal again. It's the baby, I'm sure!"

But she saw again this exchanging of looks and she knew the answer.

"It's you. It's not the child," Monroe answered.

Juliette tried to remember what she had read in Nick's trailer about Grimm. It was inherited. So there has to be someone in her family! There has to ...

Uncle Norman. She'd just thought about him, coming over, looking haunted and tired and terrified all at the same time. Norman had died young, three years ago.

"Maybe I'm the only one who cares but I think we should get rid of the body," Wu insisted. "Whatever happened to Juliette can wait until after that. He's not going to be any better in a day or two ..."  
"I know that!" Monroe turned to Wu and pointed at the windows. "But what do you see outside there?"

Wu blinked. "I am not following ..."

Juliette looked over her shoulder, and suddenly she was wondering how it was still daylight. Shouldn't it be in the middle of the night?

Rosalee looked at her, thoughtful. "You thought of someone, right?" she said with a low voice.

Juliette nodded. "My uncle, my mother's brother. He died a while ago but he was pretty much how you guys describe Grimm."

"What? All blood-thristy and with an axe in his hands, among other things?" Monroe tried to bring in a little humour.

Juliette smiled dryly.

"Why did you call us here?" Rosalee asked.

Wu sighed. "I don't like it to be ignored," he told them.

"No one's ignoring you, man. We only have to deal with something serious here," Monroe told him.

"I spoke to Eric," Juliette looked up again. "I want to send a message, Monroe. Nick told me last time you helped him with that."

"What message?" Rosalee wanted to know.

Sie sighed again. "That I would send him his Baron back to Austria in pieces," she answered.

Monroe looked over his shoulder to the blanket. "Well, I guess you did a good job with that ..."

Wu stared. "Are you out of your mind? She killed that guy. And it wasn't exactly silent! On both sides."  
Juliette shrugged. "I did feel something changing but ... I will be normal again, I ... I have to!"

Another exchange of looks between Monroe and Rosalee.

"What do you want us to do?" the Fuchsbau finally asked.

"I don't know, I really have no idea!" Juliette looked up. "I was so sure ..."

"If you have no idea if your uncle was a Grimm we probably should start there," Rosalee suggested. "Maybe there's a solution then."

Monroe sighed and took another look over his shoulder. "Man, they are growing up so quickly ..." He stood up and looked at Wu. "Would you lend a helping hand to me?"

Wu looked up. "For what?"

Monroe again looked at the body. "Making the package ready and cleaning the mess," he answered.

Wu hesitated.

"And you two should rest a little," Monroe insisted, looking at both women. "Let us guys do what needs to be done now."

"She just killed a man!" Wu said desperately.

Monroe nodded. "I know. But that guy was a bad one ..."

***************************************************************************

"So ... what are you doing here?" Sean asked, watching his cousin approach.

Sergeant Gonzales looked at his boss, shrugged and went off.

And for Sean, some loose ends just were just tied together:

Another Royal in Portland, the burglary with the dead housekeeper, the paintings on the walls, Constance Vaurrier hesitating and not wanting to give him the name of this other person.

It wasn't a different Royal family, it was his own. And Sean was pretty sure neither Eric nor their father knew where Viktor was right now.

"I was just about to pay you a visit at the precinct. You know, bringing some nice presents witch me, exchanging some of them with you ..." Viktor Renard greeted him with a smile.

Handsome and distinguished, typical English gentleman, but a little old fashioned that way, a well trimmed beard and an arrogant smile on his lips, Viktor tried his best to show himself in the best possible light. Craving for power, slimy as a toad and artful as a snake he was also a dangerous villain, not as dangerous as Eric but dangerous enough to be able to put Sean into serious trouble if he had the right inclination. Eric never trusted their cousin, and Sean only could feel the same – especially after it was Viktor who was to blame for him leaving Europe forever.

"I don't think I would accept anything coming from you," Sean told his cousin in a cold tone, and stepped back after Viktor opened his arms like he wanted to embrace him. "I remember quite clearly your last attempt to kill me."

"Still holding that old grudge?" Viktor seemed surprised but stood still now, a little smile in the corner of his mouth. "Well, I can't say I'm not touched by that."

"What do you want here?" Sean asked with a stony face.

Viktor got a pipe out of his jacket, then a lighter, and burned a little tobacco.

Sean sniffed.

"I wanted to try your lifestyle for a while," Viktor then told him. "And I wanted to make you an offer."

"So, you think you can come here, take - I have no idea how - a position in the police department without having any experience, and show me how to do my work?"

From the corner of his eye he saw Gonzales, leaning at the side of a police car and watching them from a distance.

"Actually I think I am pretty good in my job. Management I've learned from the best," Viktor told him.

"Eric, I remember," Sean said.

"And Eric manages the whole family business, as the King is seriously sick," continued Viktor.

"I know that." Still Sean's voice was cold. "I hope you know what you are doing. It could come down to me if you screw up. And I don't want that conversation with the commissioner or the mayor."

"Me neither, cousin, me neither." Viktor smiled again. "It's a nice little place you have for your own here, cousin. I disagree with Eric about Portland. Actually it could be a much more interesting place than even your father thought."

Sean folded the arms before his chest. "What do you want?" he repeated.

Viktor turned the pipe upside down and knocked it softly against the ambulance before he looked up again. "Making you an offer, my dear cousin," then he said.

Sean's face turned into a mask of stone. "What offer?"

Viktor put the pipe back into the pocket of his jacket and shrugged. "I think you may be aware of how your brother is putting himself in the middle of everything. The minute your father is dead Eric not only will take the throne, no no. He has his handymen everywhere and I'm pretty sure he will get rid of anyone who would dare to challenge him."

Still Sean's face was all stone. "That's nothing new, but common after a new king gets his crown," he said. "I don't see any offer so far. In fact, Eric and I have an agreement. I'm not after the throne, I'm pretty good with where I am."

That wasn't exactly the truth but it was the official statement he gave everyone coming to him with such an offer. Sean was sure it would take more than one or two third or fourth cousins to take over the power (and to keep it). Most of the princes were simply nervous what could happen to their privileges after Eric became king.

"Are you sure your brother remembers the agreement? Because to me it doesn't look like there's any sort of communication between you two." Viktor smiled again.

"Do you want the throne? Well, go ahead and take it. I'm not getting in your way!" Sean said.

The smile on Viktor's face vanished for a second before it sat in place again. "I'm the son of a third cousin. Before I have a chance to take over I have to kill nearly the entire family," Viktor told him. "No, I am not interested in becoming king. I'm more of a kingmaker. If the candidate wants to become king ... "

Sean frowned.

King? He? And Viktor wanted to help him take the thronse?

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking at his cousin as though he could read on his forehead what he was planing.

Viktor was right, he would have to get rid of too many members of the family and ruin it in the process. And a weak family Renard ... the other six families would do everything in their power to kill them all.

"I'm pretty much okay," Viktor told him. "And surely I would love to take the crown but unfortunately that will never happen. But I could help my dear cousin Sean getting the throne ... and maybe after he has the crone on his head he would think of me, maybe with giving some land to me?"

Sean looked at his cousin and wished he could read his mind.

Viktor was a threat on his own, and he was ready to risk a lot to fulfill his dreams. It was possible that, if Saen agreed, he would find himself inside a cask on its way somewhere else, most likely dead by then.

"Why are you coming to me?" Sean asked. "I doubt that it's only the love between relatives, right? What is it?"

The smile returned. "I had to think of you a lot lately, you know?" Viktor asked.

"That's no answer!"

"That's the best answer you will get from me. Let's make uns a deal, try out if we fit together first before finally teaming up. You will get the throne and maybe leave some bread crumbs for me?"

"And if Eric finds out early I will be the one whose head would be taken?"

Viktor didn't look too worried about that. "There's always danger," he told Sean. "But, as I said, look at you! Your own brother stoly your property from you and your hands are tied. I could help with that too."

Sean startled. "What do you mean?"

"I know Eric has your Grimm, my dear cousin. That's what I mean." Viktor's face was very serious. He stepped closer, looking deep into Sean's eyes. "If I were you, I know what I would do! But Eric had planned this move long ago, right? You lost your allies, like I did with mine."

Sean lifted his chin. "You didn't lose your housekeeper two nights ago, do you?" he asked.

Viktor smirked. "Sometimes sacrifices are necessary. You should know that the best."

Sean looked at his cousin, nodding thoughfully while he slowly absorbed most of the picture.

Sure, he would never find the evidence to tie Viktor to the murder of Remy Vaurrier but he knew somehow Viktor had killed him. Vaurrier was his creature, and most likely the Baillines came with him over here. And, most important, there was a chance that Vaurrier also had brought information in about Eric. Information Sean could need right now.

Viktor stepped back, still keeping eye contact. "Let me know what you decide," he said. "But don't make me wait too long, my dear cousin."

Sean watched Viktor enter the crime scene. And again he looked at Sergeant Gonzales, who was still leaning at the police car, returning his look ...


	3. Dangerous Business

A/N: Thanks for the follows :). And a very special thanks again to MerlynPyndragon for her awesome work as a beta!

________________________________________________________

One week later:

"And there should be a new announcement about the upcoming changes in the management of the mine," Eric said, flipping through the pages of the latest dossier.

Christian wrote down a note on his to-do-list for the rest of the day, looking up again. "Anything else, your highness?"

Eric sighed and set the loose papers aside before leaning forward, his hands folded on the desk. He studied the face of his secretary, lips pursed.

Christian did his best to look as innocent as possible. Fortunately his Maushertz-side was a huge advantage.

"Yes, there is," Eric finally decided. Leaning back on his chair his eyes began to wonder through his office. "Do you remember the small suite in my rooms?"

Christian placed his notebook on his leg and frowned. "You mean the old butler's rooms?"

Eric nodded. "Exactly those! I want them renovated as quickly as possible."

Christian, still frowning, made another note.

"But!" Eric lifted one finger. "It should be from the same company that renovated the old tower last year."

Christian looked up. "Is there a specific reason why, your highness? I only ask because of the approval. You know how the treasury secretary of your father's can be. Gebrueder Holstein was a topic last year and I guess, they will be this time again."

"Tell that over-aged dinosaur they have special skills I need for doing the renovation right. Just in case he hasn't noticed, this castle is about 700 years old. We cannot hire the cheapest idiots on the market."

Christian nodded again but didn't write this out.

To be correct, Hermstein, the minister of finance of the house Renard, wasn't really a problem. He himself wanted to know what Eric had planned.

Those rooms he mentioned hold a hidden doorway. A six-room apartment on a secret floor, entrance only possible through Eric's own rooms.

"And there will be a change in my staff," the prince continued. "A new man will fill in for Lukas. For him are the rooms."

Christian took a deep breath. The fingers around his pencil went white, so hard did he pressed it. A soft click warned him that the pencil was about to break.

"Of course, your highness," Christian said.

So, that was the plan for the Grimm? Placing him in the middle of Eric's private rooms would make an escape impossible. Hopefully the move from the cell in the tower to the suite in Eric's private part of the castle wouldn't be as quick as he feared. The spare rooms hadn't been used during the past twenty years, so a renovation would take some time.

Eric leaned back, folding his fingers. He began to smile a cold smile. "There will be a few changes in the near future," he continued. "The new man and his fiancee won't be the only one."

Christian lifted his eyebrows in a faked surprise. "Oh, he's bringing his wife with him?" he asked.

"So far they are not married. Maybe we will have something to celebrate later, you know? Maybe he wants me to marry them, who knows?" Eric shrugged. "His fiancee will arrive here soon. She should be here by now but ... there's a small issure causing a delay I will have fixed soon."

Christian looked down at his notebook but didn't even try to write down anything. "So, I assume this new man is here?" he asked.

Eric blinked and seemed to realize that he probably had said a little too much. Moving on his chair to sit upright again the smile vanished. He looked at Christian thoughtful. "You know that I trust you, don't you?" he asked.

Christian bowed his head. "I feel honored, your highness, for your trust in me."

"If I ever find out that you are aiming to betray me -"

With a bang the door sprang open and a woman stormed in. "We need to talk, NOW!"

Christian jumped to his feet. Whirling around he stared in the face of a woman he barely remembered from a long time ago. Back then she was here too, together with ...

"Eloise, I'm so sorry for your loss!" Eric said. Slwoly he stood up and leaned forward. "But would you please respect that is my home and my office and you are nothing more than an unexpected guest at my table?" His voice was very calm, but also very threatening and cold.

The woman startled and seemed to realize that her rude entry wasn't really welcomed.

Christian stepped backwards. Again he bowed. "Your highness," he mumbled, still watching the familiar looking woman he couldn't really place.

"I am demanding my right of revenge! I want the heads of those animals who did this to my father!" she said harshly.

Christian turned around after he finally realized who just stormed into Eric's office.

"Baronesse," he greeted before he finally left the room, closing the door.

Baron Samedi's stepdaughter had just arrived. And that was the worst news he could collect ...

*********************************************************

The woman opening the door looked like Juliette, Monroe decided. A Juliette, only twenty (or a little more) years older. Grey strands of hair at her temples, lines in her face telling about her life. Yes, this was Juliette's mother – or a very much older sister.

"Juliette?" Mrs. Silverton called, surprised. Looking first at her daughter, then up to Monroe, she really seemed confused. So the Blutbad put on his best and friendliest smile and nodded.

"Mom," Juliette greeted. "Sorry for the short notice."

The "short notice" was a call she made only five minutes before they arrived here, in a small town between Portland and Seattle.

Mrs. Silverton shook her head. "No problem. I'm glad to see you." But the smile on her lips wasn't in the right position, there was no light of excitement in her eyes to see her daughter.

Juliette turned to Monroe. "This is a friend of mine. Monroe," she introduced him. "Monroe, meet my mother."  
Monroe, still smiling the friendliest smile he had on stock, nodded again. "I'm honored to meet you, Mrs. Silverton. Juliette did ... tell a lot about you." Which was a complete lie, and the look in the dark-grey eyes of the older woman answered him that she was well aware of that.

"Mister Monroe," Mrs. Silverton answered, lowering her head a little.

"Only Monroe. That's enough."

"I need to talk to you, Mom," Juliette said. "It's urgent and important. That's why I came here on such a short notice."

Mrs. Silverton lifted her chin a little. "Oh! Of course, come on in." She welcomed her unexpected guests and opened the door completely.

Monroe really started to wonder what was going on between mother and daughter. Juliette had never mentioned her at all, and if Nick hadn't told him a while ago, Monroe would have been really baffled after Juliette said she wanted to meet her mother to talk to her about this mysterious Uncle Norman.

As Captain Renard had asked for help in case of the still accused Hank, and Rosalee had some important errands to do, Monroe had decided to drive with Juliette to meet her mom.

Mrs. Silverton led them into a huge living room with a beautiful view into the woods. The furniture was - no doubt here was where Juliette got her taste from - distinguished chic without being too snobby in Monroe's eyes. The highlight of the room was an old clock with a hand-carved frame standing by the back wall.

"Do you want a coffee? Or a tea? Maybe water?" Mrs. Silverton asked and broke the spell before Monroe could fall into deep love with the clock.

"No, I'm good, Mom," Juliette answered. Monroe shook his head and sat down on one of the armchairs, near to said clock to continuing studying its movement.

"Okay." Mrs. Silverton took a seat on another armchair, on the opposite side to Juliette, who took the couch. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"First of all, I'm pregnant," Juliette said.

"Oh my God!" Mrs. Silverton hid her mouth behind her hands and stared at her daughter. "Are you sure?"

Juliette nodded when Monroe looked at her.

Mrs. Silverton looked at the Blutbad. "Are you ... ?" she asked.

"No, it's not me. I'm about to get married, you know?" Monroe answered quickly. "To a very lovely woman, who's not Juliette."

"It's Nick's," Juliette said.

Mrs. Silverton looked at her again. "I see ..." Suddenly the upcoming excitement vanished complitely, making Monroe wonder.

"But that's not what I want to discuss with you right now," Juliette continued. "I need to learn more about Uncle Norman."

Mrs. Silverton's face went pale. "Juliette, that's not a good topic," she warned. "If you fear for the baby ... don't do that! Nowadays there are so many different ways of treating schizophrenia. Even if you are carrying ..."

"Schizophrenia?" Monroe interrupted. "Are you sure?"

Mrs. Silverton looked at him. "What else would you call someone seeing strange things? My brother was diagnosed with schizophrenia, yes."

"And I doubt that was true," Juliette said. "Mom, I need to know if there's anything you inherited from Uncle Norman."

"I don't think you understand, my dear," Mrs. Silverton said. "If you fear for the baby, that's okay. But schizophrenia is nowadays ..."

"Dear Mom!" Juliette screamed. "I'm not here because Uncle Norman might have been schizophrenic! I am here because I need to know some things about him and if he had any sort of legacy!"

Mrs. Silverton startled. "Juliette, this isn't about you, is it?" she asked, face still pale. "If so, I'm sure ..."

"I am not schizophrenic, Mom. And I think neither was Uncle Norman," Juliette took some deep breaths to calm down again. "And I need to know if there ever were others like Uncle Norman. Others you would refer as mentally ill."

Mrs. Silverton looked at Monroe. "I'm sorry for this topic, Mister Monroe. I really am. This shouldn 't be discussed outside the family."

Monroe pulled the smile back on his face. "It's okay, Mrs. Silverton. A nice clock you have here ... I assume European?"

"Switzerland," Mrs. Silverton confirmed.

Juliette leaned forward, staring at her mother. "Mom, I NEED this information! Now!"

"Why? Juliette, why do you want to dig into the family curse? You should be lucky not to be part of it." Mrs. Silverton tried a sad smile now. It failed.

"You said your brother claimed he could see strange creatures?" Monroe asked.

Mrs. Silverton nodded. "Yes, he said he saw them change right before his eyes. But there was never anything else than average people, I'm sure!"

"Were there others before Uncle Norman?" Juliette repearted.

Mrs. Silverton sighed. "As far as I know yes," she finally answered. "Your grandaunt Silvia and I think I remember there also was her father, so your great-great grandfather."

"And they never survived very long, right?" Monroe asked. "They died young. Possibly violently?"

"I don't know where this is leading to," Mrs. Silverton said. "But it's painful. Juliette, please! If there's something you have to tell me, I am sure we will find help if you need it."

"Is there anything you have from Uncle Norman?" Juliette asked, ignoring the plea from her mother.

Mrs. Silverton again looked at Monroe. "I'm very sorry, Mister Monroe."

"Don't be." Juliette lifted her chin. "This isn't a curse, Mom. This isn't even an illness! This is -"

"Something more complicated than you might think," Monroe interrupted Juliette, sending her a warning stare. "But we really have to find out, if your brother left a legacy after he passed. This really could be important."

"Is it because Nick is missing? Do you think you will find anything valuable among his stuff?" Mrs. Silverton asked her daughter. "Juliette, I may not always be with you, especially when it comes down to Nick, but this is ridiculous! If you need money, say it!"

Monroe blinked.

Mrs. Silverton didn't like Nick and that was why Juliette broke with her? Maybe, he decided.

"No, Mom, this isn't because of Nick. This is because of me," Juliette said.

"What is it?" Monroe interrupted again. "Nick at all or Nick as a cop?"

"The cop part of the Nick story," Juliette answered for her mother.

"That's not true, not completely! I liked him, but you see where his job brought you now," Mrs. Silverton said.

"Nick isn't dead, Mom! He was taken from me!" Juliette snapped.

Mrs. Silverton shook her head. It was as clear as day that she didn't believe this. Who would? Nick wasn't rich, he hadn't inherited much. From the outside, there was nothing that could make him valuable enough to abduct him.

"It's true. Nick's alive, we know for sure," Monroe said, as calmly as possible in hopes of not witnessing how mother and daughter could really start to fight.

Mrs. Silverton looked at him. "So, he's gone and left you behind?" she assumed then.

Juliette shook her head. "No! Nick even doesn't know that I am pregnant. I found out after he vanished."

"And that makes it even harder," Mrs. Silverton said softly. "Oh, Juliette, if you only would try to understand! My concern from the very beginning was that you would end in a situation like this – or very similar to this. Don't you see that you are throwing your life away? For what? Nick will not come back to you, maybe he isn't alive anymore anymore!"

"He is! Mom, why don't you listen? We have proof!"

Monroe frowned. "This isn't all about Nick, is it?" he asked. "This is to distract us from the real reason why we are here."

Mrs. Silverton took a deep breath and looked at Monroe like a deer in the headlights.

Juliette looked at the Blutbad, then again to her mother. "Do you holding something back, Mom?" she asked.

Mrs. Silverton shook her head and got up from the armchair. "Maybe it would be better if you left now. Both of you."

Monroe looked at her, studying her face. "You are not speaking the truth here," he repeated. "There's something you're holding back."

Instinct. That was what told him that. All over his life Monroe had always studied people, sometimes drawn out, sometimes from the front window of his little house. He could sense it if a human was lying, and Mrs. Silverton truly was lying about something.

"What are you hiding from me, Mom?" Juliette demanded to know. "Does it have anything to do with Uncle Norman?"

Mrs. Silverton shook her head. "It's time to leave now if you don't accept the truth, Juliette."

"What truth, Mom? What truth? I think you are the one not accepting the truth here. Not everything is easy to explain or to accept, true! But you should show at least a little faith! Norman was your brother as he was my uncle!"

"Your favourite uncle." Mrs. Silverton sighed and blinked, looking out of the window into the small yard and the woods behind.

Monroe wasn't sure if they should push her. For his own taste this was enough, but he didn't know Mrs. Silverton.

"Mom, this could also be important for Nick! There's so much you don't understand, believe me. And I think Uncle Norman was part of this. And that is why I need to look through his stuff!" Juliette stood up, looking very serious at her mother. "I would never disrespect Uncle Norman, never!"

"I know that! That's why I'm hiding it!" Mrs. Silverton stared into thin air for a moment, trying to realize what she just said.

"So, there's a legacy?" Monroe said.

Mrs. Silverton shook her head again, desperately. "Please, let this be, Juliette! You don't know what you would face if you don't."

"That is why I am here, Mom! I know those things, and I have to find out if there are more out there. I have to understand it! I have to! Not only for me, but for the child!"

Mrs. Silverton closed her eyes. In her eye lashes Monroe could see tears shimmering.

"There's a trunk in the attic," the older woman finally gave in. "I've stored it since Norman was the last time around."

Monroe frowned while Juliette went quickly to the stairs.

"Did you say 'the last time'?" the Blutbad asked. "The last time as in he's still alive?"

Juliette froze, turned around then again, looking at her mother.

At first Mrs. Silverton shook first her head, now openly crying. But after a moment she changed her mind and nodded.

"He's alive?" Juliette asked, baffled.

"I don't know if he is still alive," Mrs. Silverton said. "But I know two months ago he was."

Monroe exchanged a look with Juliette, before she sped up and ran to the stairs.

"Aren't Grimm supposed to be loners?" Monroe muttered. "Well, obviously I just stumbled into a whole hive ..."

****************************************************

The little restaurant Christian had gotten him a table at really was one of the better, Eric decided. The meal probably wasn't world class but tasty, the wine a little too dry for his personal taste but the cognac he had now was surely the best he had for a long time. He really had to find out what distillery they got it from and buy some bottles for his private cellar.

Eric leaned back in his chair, took a look all around the restaurant before he finally said to his guest, "Never do that again, especially not in front of any of my servants. Do you hear me?"

Eloise, the stepdaughter of Baron Samedi, nodded with thin lips.

Eric leaned forward again, still staring at her. "It doesn't matter if we have history or not. You are a guest in my home, so you should behave like a guest. I understand you were close to your father, I understand his death is hitting you hard. But there's no excuse to coming to me in the way you did this afternoon. Do you understand?" Keeping his voice low but cold, she would know how close she was to getting punished.

After a long-lasting stare, Eloise finally lowered her head. "I am sorry, your highness. You are right, I crossed a line I shouldn't have."

Eric nodded. Taking the glass he sipped a little cognac, rolled it several times around in his mouth and tasting the alcohol, the wood and the wine.

"But I have the right for revenge. Those animals not only killed my father, they humilated his body and now send it back piece by piece. This is an outrage, Eric," Eloise said. "So, after I have spoken to my brothers I demand the family right to avenge what was done to our father."

"Denied," Eric said, putting the glass back on the table.

"What? You cannot do that!" Eloise glared at him, a muscle in her cheek jumping.

"I cannot give you the right," Eric said to her. "You don't understand what happened to your father and why it is important that his killers are kept alive – at least for a while."

"You cannot deny me, Eric! This is law! Those bastards killed a member of one of the oldest noble families. If you deny our right of revenge, this will fall back on you. And I don't think you would like where this could lead to directly ..."

"Are you threatening me?" Eric asked, head tilted. "Because I don't like to be threatened, and that could end ugly for you and your family. What about losing your privileges? We could discuss that if you like."

Eloise crossed her arms before her chest. "I'm not leaving without permission! I could have waited for as long as it took for them to sent his whole body. But this way? Every day a piece of him? No way!"

Eric nodded.

"So, do you give your permission or do I have to pay the king a visit?" Eloise asked, eyes narrowing.

Eric had thought this situation through. He had a plan. And he needed her anger to get what the Baron couldn't bring to him.

He still wanted Juliette and the baby. Besides the murder Nick would do for him in a week they would be the best guarantee in keeping the Grimm under Eric's thumb. He should have thought about this earlier, the prince told himself. He should have watched Sean better to understand how he got the control over this unusual Grimm.

But now ...

Eric thinned his lipe. Staring into the glass with the cognac he thought his plan through again.

Eloise, the new head of the family, the new baronesse of the caribbean islands, had a special ability. Maybe he should have asked for her help first instead of the Baron, as Eloise's special ability wasn't as noisy as the zombies her stepfather created. And right now, her special talent would surely be the smartest move to get Juliette and the baby out of Portland and into his castle. He only had to make it look like he just came to this idea on this table.

"I cannot give you permission and I can only hope you will let my father stay out of this," Eric finally said. Hesitately looking up he tried his best so act weak, as if she really had hit him hard.

Eloise lifted her chin, a satisfied smile pulling one corner of her mouth.

"I need one person from the group of suspects for killing your father. I'm pretty sure she doesn't have something to do with his death but she's protected by the others. And I know your temper. You would probably lose control."

The smile died. Instead a line grew on her forehead. "This person has nothing to do with my father's death? Are you sure?" she asked.

He was sure she had but he needed her alive. "Look, as long as you can guarantee that you won't go after her I'm fine with you killing the others, especially as one of them is my brother Sean." Eric smiled.

Eloise lifted an eyebrow. "Father was still in Portland? Why was he there?" she asked.

He sighed. "Do you know why I asked your father to go there?"

Eloise frowned. "I think I know why," she finally told him.

"You see? I realized that I made a mistake bringing only him with me. He has a girlfriend, and I sent your father to bring her too," Eric said. "And then he was killed. I'm sure it was this rabble of rebellious Wesen my brother has gathered all around him. The girlfriend is pregnant with the child of the Grimm, and you know how precious this child could be."

Eloise started to nod. "I see ..."

Eric sighed again. "I need the girlfriend to control the Grimm. Unfortunately my dear brother did a sloppy job with taming him so I have to do it ..."

"And with this girlfriend it would be a lot easier," Eloise continued, still nodding. Finally she caught eye-contact with him again and sat upright. "Give the order to me. I will make sure this girlfriend will arrive here safely and I will take revenge on the others protecting her. So we are both getting what we want."

Eric's smile grew. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Give me the details."

***************************************

Nick sat once more with his back against the door and ate a sandwich this guy, Christian, had brought to him

This had become a daily routine for the past week. Every evening with sunset the little man with the French accent came to the door and brought two sandwiches with him. Christian had explained to Nick that this was the only time the two Grimm Hans and Franz left the tower together and left him alone so they could have dinner.

That made sense, Nick decided. And he was more than thankful that Christian came every day. It was a relief to have someone to talk to, someone who listened to him and gave him advice. Someone who calmed him down.

Nick still feared that Juliette had been kidnapped by the Cracher-Mortal. True, it's been a week now since he heard the painful scream and gave in to Eric, but didn't the Royal take him on a journey with him after he was trapped and stored in the coffin for two months? Was it also possible that now also Juliette was in another coffin and flying across the world, unconscious and pregnant?

There was something else Nick noticed over the past few days: something inside him was changing. Now and then he found himself sticking in the middle of so deep an anger he'd never even thought to exist. He didn't have an explanation for what was going on with him, and so far he didn't trust Christian enough to tell him. Christian, this little guy with the big eyes, always nervous and ready to leave as fast as possible. And the same Christian was also Nick's only hope to flee.

"The premiere is next week," the voice with the French accent told him now. "I have to check with my contacts there and I also have to tell the one you will take with you. But ... do you have a problem with this?"

Nick swallowed and smiled a sad smile.

One week until he was supposed to flee together with someone he didn't know in the middle of a country he had never been to, the language of which he was incapable of speaking or understanding.

"Is she able to speak German?" he asked.

"She can. She's living here for a year," Christian answered. "I will tell you the details later, including a way out of Vienna. Sean has ordered two plane tickets from Milan airport Malpensa. Destination is Marrakesh."

What the hell was he going to do in Marrakesh?

"It is necessary," Christian continued. "We cannot fly either of you two out of Europe from Austria, Germany or France. It will be dangerous enough on your flight to the States when you stop in Great Britain."

Nick's mood sank down again.

All this sounded so complicated, and with the problem of not understanding the languages here these problems seemed to grow to the size of mountains.

"The only other way I would see would be from Brussels," Christian said. "And I have no idea how to bring you two from this side to the other side of the Alps at all."

"I understand," Nick said.

"Your partner is pregnant, never forget that. She's tough, true, but she carries a child."

His throat seemed to shut down for a moment. He couldn't breathe.

Pregnant, like Juliette. And Juliette was probably on her own now, maybe already abducted and on her way to Eric's castle.

Nick put the small remains of the sandwich back on the dish. "Have you heard anything from Portland?" he asked hesitately.

Christian was silent for a moment, and Nick wished he could see more of the small guy on the other side of the door than the small part of his face as he peeked into the cell.

"She's safe," Christian told him. "I told you I've spoken with Sean. Your fiancee and the baby are both well and eagerly await your return."

"Did you speak to her?" Nick wanted to know.

Again there was for a moment silence on the other side of the door. "I did speak with her, yes." the little man then answered. "As I have already told you, she's waiting for your return. She never gave up hope that you would find your way back to her."

A sad smile grew on Nick's lips.

How deeply he wished to be back at their house again. He really couldn't find words for this ...

"Do you want to talk to her?" Christian asked.

Nick froze.

Speaking with Juliette? Now?

"I can get Sean to set up a time, maybe tomorrow evening? It's the best time then I think," Christian said.

Listening to Juliette's voice would feel like a bath in crystal clear water, Nick decided. It would feel so good that he really wished he could take his own cellphone and call her right now. But Christian was right, Juliette was half a world away, and he didn't have a cellphone anymore. They both needed help to set up a simple call.

"I would appreciate that," Nick said. "I miss her."

"I will see what I can do," Christian told him. "And I hope you don't mind me when I go now. The cousins should be back soon."

Nick sighed.

Alone again ...

"Alright," he said. "We meet again tomorrow?"

Maybe then with the chance to talk to Juliette?

"I will see what I can do," Christian answered and opened the little window in the door. "The dish please."

Nick nodded and gave it to him. Christian frowned when he noticed that half of the second sandwich was still on the dish but he didn't mentioned it.

"See you tomorrow," Nick said and tried a bitter smile. "And ... watch your back!"

Christian smiled back. "Will do. Be careful, Grimm."

"Nick. My name is Nick," he corrected.

And Christian's smile grew. "Goodnight, Nick."


	4. Long missed Voices

A/N: Huge special thanks again to Merlyn Pyndragon for her awesome work as beta!  
__________________________________________________

Again they had met at the Spice Shop. All of them excluding Hank.

Wu was sitting on the divan, sipping a cup of coffee as he observed the others. Renard, leaning on the door frame to the back room, deeply lost in his own mind. Juliette, standing at the table, studied one of the books she brought with her. They looked a bit like the ones from Nick's trailer but with different sketches. The handwriting and style were unlike anything she had ever seen at Nick's trailer.

Monroe came up to Rosalee, holding another cup in his hands. She smiled at him. She felt warm, loved and secure with the not-so-big and not-so-bad Blutbad around her. Monroe was someone she could trust completely. And it was impossible for her only to even think about losing him.

"You sure you want to be part of this?" he asked, looking worried.

Rosalee nodded, still smiling. "We started this together, we will work this out together."

The reason why he asked was something personal between the two of them. Monroe was ready to do anything to help Nick. She wasn't so sure about herself. True, she wanted to help, no mistake. She missed Nick. But she also never was as close to the Grimm as Monroe was. And she had other experiences during her life. She knew what they would have to deal with if they were to really try to get Nick back into the US.

"Why this meeting?" Wu finally asked.

Rosalee looked around, realizing that they were on their own. Hank was still in custudy, and even if not, he wouldn't come. She went to see him yesterday and he disagreed to leave his cell at all.

Nick was still missing, Rosalee thought. He and Hank, those two she was missing.

"Well, you are right, we should start, I think," Renard said, looking around, awaiting whatever would happen next.

Rosalee exchanged a look with Monroe.

She didn't feel like she should start. She didn't had any news.

Wu looked to Juliette, who still was reading in the new books. "What are you reading?"

Juliette looked up. "These are books from my uncle," she answered with a smile. "I took them with me yesterday. My mother had them stored in the attic."

"So, you have now your own inheritance?" Renard asked.

Juliette and Monroe exchanged a look.

"Uncle Norman is alive," she said.

Renard stared at her. "Alive? Is he a Grimm?"

"He is," Monroe answered. "And, if you ask me, he has a little problem with his odor. I mean Nick's nasty, Juliette doesn't smell like a bunch of flowers anymore. But that guy? My God" The Blutbad rolled his eyes.

"We took the books and weapons with us because they are part of my uncle's heritage, but they're also part of mine. But I have a trailer full of all those nice things, he only stored his in one trunk."

Rosalee sighed.

It had taken Monroe and Juliette until midnight before they finally got back to Portland. And then Juliette was too excited about what she found out, and too angry at her mother, to wind down enough to sleep.

"Hank's still in custody," Renard told them all. "I can't get anywhere near him to talk to him about what happened."

"You still have issues with your memories?" Rosalee asked.

That was a problem she was likely able to fix. She had to look through her books, though.

Renard nodded. "According to the doctor I had a very mild concussion, and it is possible that I will never recall what happened at all."

"Lucky hit," Monroe muttered.

"I didn't expect it. Nothing more than lucky, that's our guy." Renard nodded.

"But we need Hank to exclude him from the murder!" Wu said.

"I know that. Unfortunately the one now in charge of the second precinct disagrees with me. By the way, he's one of my cousins. And he's a very dangerous man. Better you all keep that in mind." Renard sighed. "I might need a little help from the second precinct, Unfortunately this is a precinct I never got too close to."

"Oh, I already told you about Rico," Wu said.

Renard nodded. "You did. But I fear Sergeant Gonzales and I don't speak the same language."

Rosalee smirked a little. It felt weird to have Renard here, at her Spice Shop. Not bad but weird. Renard didn't belong here, as he was part Royal. But the part with the humour she would love to call a friend.

Wu shrugged. "Well, maybe I should try my luck. Rico already knows me and that I don't come easily with personal demands."

"Fine. But be careful!" Renard warned.

Juliette closed the book she was reading in and looked up. "I am going to leave Portland," she said.

For a split second the room was in complete silence.

"You are doing what?" Renard asked, looking in the same derection.

Juliette nodded. "I'm going to search for my uncle. I think he has a few answers we don't," she answered. "I have no idea how Norman handled the situation. From what I remember I think it's best I go alone."

"No," Rosalee said. "Remember that Eric had sent someone to get you, in best case ..."

"Someone really should go with you." Renard nodded. "Eric is a dangerous man. And if my dear cousin was only as intelligent as Eric's finger, that man could become dangerous too."

"I cannot stay! I need some more answers!" Juliette insisted. "I've already tested my DNA, and I tested Nick's genes. There are differences between us and a normal human being. But I need more information about what it really means to be a Grimm! I doubt it's only about killing Wesen. That's simply not enough!"

Rosalee smiled a little sad. She didn't want to lose another friend, especially not Juliette, right now. Juliette was looking lost, she'd noticed over the past week. The new ability, the Grimm inside her, was driring her crazy.

"I'm not letting you go away on your own," Renard said.

"Me neither!" Wu said. "Juliette, think about it for a second. You're pregnant you need to take care of both of you. And we already saw what can happen a week ago."

Juliette looked down at the book.

"And if one of us is going with her?" Monroe asked. "I'm on your side, Juliette, I think you need those answers."

"Who should go with her?" Renard asked. "We need to stay together as long as this situation lasts."

"You are talking about your cousin, right?" Rosalee asked. She looked thoughtfully at the half-Royal and nodded. "I've heard the name Viktor Renard before. It's been a while and he's surely not a primary threat, but he's dangerous. I'm with you."

"He knows how to make others work for him," Renard agreed. "And the moment he finds out that there's another Grimm in Portland ..."

Juliette looked up again, nostrils flared. "What then?" she asked. "Are Grimm supposed to be the property of the Royals? If so I've found nothing about it in Nick's trailer. Someone should teach the Royals a lesson in history!"

"I'm going with you," Rosalee said.

Once more there was nothing but silence.

"I don't think that's a good idea, Rosi," Monroe said.

"Why not? If this Norman is as spooked at us as you think, I'm a way better example to calm him down. And I know how to fight."

Renard's cellphone started to ring. "Excuse me for a second," he said after he checked the number and vanished into the shop area.

"Do you really want to come with me?" Juliette asked.

Rosalee thought about this for a moment.

She had reacted spontaneously when she said she wanted to join Juliette. And now, after she thought about it ... Juliette was a friend, a closer friend than Nick. She liked her and wanted to help her get through this and the pregnancy, and hopefully also the reunite her with Nick one day. She knew Juliette needed nothing more than company right now. She was still new to all the Wesen stuff, no matter how many books she had read at Nick's trailer over the past few months. Seeing drawings and seeing the real thing was a huge difference.

Renard returned to the back room. "I have a surprise for you all," he said with a relieved smile. He held another cellphone in his hand now and touched the screen. "Give it to him," he said. And a moment later the dearly missed, dark voice said: "Hello?"

Nick!

For another second silence set in, in the next moment they all started to speak at once.

"Oh my God! It's you!"

"Nick, we miss you!"

"How are you?"

"Hey, I need the money for coffee from the past two months, young man."

"Nick, it's so good to hear your voice."

"Stop!" Renard ordered. "We don't have much time for this. Nick, are you still there?"

"Yes, sir. Did I just hear Wu?" Nick's voice answered.

"Yeah, I'm fine again. Thanks for asking. You owe me money for the coffee," the sergeant answered.

A mixture between a giggle and a sob came through the line. "It could take a while before I can pay you."

"Oh, that's fine with me. Just taking your paycheck over at one point. Thought I should warn you," Wu said.

This time it was really a laughter that came through the line.

"Hey man, how are you doing?" Monroe asked.

"Better now. Thanks. How are you?"

Rosalee felt Monroe's arm around her shoulders. "We are going to get married, Monroe and I!" she exclaimed.

"Really? That's ... wow!"

"Yeah, but we can't. I need my best man, man," Monroe said.

Silence, only broken by an exhaling.

"But I think the most important news is awaiting you now," Renard said, handling the cellphone over to Juliette. "If you want to talk to him in private ..."

She nodded and turned around. Ending the speaker line she pressed the phone to her ear.

Rosalee watched her with a worried smile.

She couldn't even imagine the emotions both of them were going through right now. It must be hell for them, especially if Nick knew about Juliette being pregnant.

"Yes. Yes, that is true," Juliette said now. So, it was still the news of the day.

"How did you ... ?" Wu asked.

Renard, arms folded before his chest and looking at Juliette's back, shrugged. "I wish it was my idea but fact is, it was the one working for me at my brother's castle. He thinks this is helpful to Nick, and I agree with him."

Rosalee nodded and leaned close to Monroe. "It is," she whispered. "Now the wound can start to heal ..."

__________________________________________________________

"This is for you. But ... hurry." Christian gave him a cellphone through the little opening.

Nick stared at it for a second, trying to prepare himself before he finally held it to his ear and said, "Hello?"

The next moment hell seemed to break loose when five or six different voices started talking at the same time.

Nick, after he jumped a little in surprise, held the phone hard to his ear. He started shaking from the inside out after he recognized the voices.

The captain, Wu, Monroe, Rosalee and ... Juliette!

Tears were burning in his eyes and his fingers clamped to the cellphone.

All his friends, they were all together. Juliette wasn't alone with the child. She wasn't!

"Stop!" He heard Renard barking this order, and silence set in.

It felt so good to hear their voices! He could close his eyes and imagine he was there. Probably at Juliette's house, or at Monroe's or in the Spice Shop. Maybe Renard invited them into his apartment?

"Nick, are you still there?" Renard's voice sounded unusually warm and friendly, but also felt right in this moment.

"Yes, sir," Nick answered, trying to keep the power over his voice. "Did I just hear Wu?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking," the snarky officer said.

Why was Wu with the others but he couldn't hear Hank? Where was Hank?

Nick recalled what he was able to remember from the night at the container yard, just to make sure he hadn't missed something. But Hank hadn't been there. He had told him before that he had an appointment at the hospital taking off the cast. So, why wasn't his partner with the others now?

"You owe me money for the coffee," Wu explained.

And Nick was so relieved and happy at the same time, a noise, half whimper half laughter, left his throat.

"It could take a while before I can pay you," Nick returned the joke while tears ran down his cheeks.

So much had happened. He was tortured, poisoned, probably close to death during the past few weeks, he had never felt so lonely since the first time after he regained conscious as a prisoner. To hear them now, the oh-so-familiar voices of his friends and coworkers, healed a tiny little bit of the wound in his soul, but his heart was still bleeding.

"Oh, that's fine with me. Just taking your paycheck over at one point. Thought I should warn you," Wu said.

Nick laughed a little, eyes still closed.

It felt so normal, so right, to talk to them, no matter how much time and space was between them.

"Hey, man, how are you doing?" Monroe's voice asked.

"Better now. Thanks. How are you?" Nick answered.

Monroe, this great guy he stumbled into back when his Grimm awoke. The best friend he ever had all his life. It had taken him a while to realize this.

"We are going to get married, Monroe and I!" Rosalee's voice screamed in his ear.

Nick's heart ran over with love and friendship.

Monroe, this weird loner and clock worker, and Rosalee, the clever Fuchsbau. He knew it from the moment they met after Rosalee's brother was killed! He knew they were made for each other.

"Really? That's ... wow!" Nick stuttered a little.

Somehow he still had hoped he would marry Juliette first, or, maybe, they would plan their weddings together. But he was really happy for Monroe and Rosalee. He really was!

"Yeah, but we can't. I need my best man, man," Monroe told him.

And that was something Nick never had expected! Something that made him freeze for a moment, trying to regain the control over his body and mind.

He whispered a soundless, "Thank you" but he was sure no one had hear him, as his whispering mixed with Renard's voice, telling him, "But I think the most important news is awaiting you now."

Nick started to shiver again.

Juliette? He thought he would have heard her along with the others but suddenly he wasn't sure. All the sorrows during the last week came back to him, trying to hold him down.

"Nick?" The voice of an angel. His angel.

He had to lean against the wall, otherwise his legs wouldn't be able anymore to do their job.

"Juliette," he whispered. "Oh my God, Juliette! Is it really you? Are you free? Did the Cracher-Mortal hurt you?" He hesitated before he asked the last question. "Is it true? Are you carrying our child?"

"Yes. Yes, it is true," Juliette answered. "And, Nick, this is wonderful! I never thought I could but ... it's wonderful! Don't you think?"

He would be a father. He was a father.

He felt the tears running from his eyes. But it was okay. These tears were tears of joy now. Worried but also happy.

"It's a miracle," he whispered.

"And, Nick, there's more," Juliette said. "Something happened to me."

Alarmed, he lifted his head. "Did the Cracher-Mortal do something? Did he spit at you? Juliette, if you're hurt ..."

"I am a Grimm too now," she interrupted him. "Nick, the child, our child, will be a full-blood."

A Grimm? Juliette a Grimm?

Her shooting skills, the way she was able to analyze others, how good she was when he taughed her a little hand-to-hand combat. All this and much more sprang suddenly to his mind.

He knew it! Somewhere deep inside himself he knew it since his own Grimm awoke, maybe before. He knew they were more than only kindred spirits.

"Nick? Are you still there?" she asked.

"I am," Nick answered. "But ... since when did you know this?"  
"Since last week," came the answer. "Nick, Monroe and I were at my mother's and we found out that my uncle Norman is most likely is a Grimm. He stored stuff in the attic of my parents' house. And in one of the old journals there was something about Grimm and how they could lock their powers."

Nick frowned. "Juliette, don't do anything stupid, do you hear me? You have to stick to the others. Go nowhere alone. This is dangerous! If Eric doesn't know about you being a Grimm, he will find out soon, believe me. And you don't want to have to deal with him!"

"Rosalee will help me find my uncle. Maybe he knows more," Juliette explained. "Nick, please trust me in this. I know what I'm capable of."

He knew, she didn't have to mention that. The only other person in his life he would have the same respect for was Monroe.

"Always stick to Rosalee then," he said. "And be careful, very careful."

"I will. And we will bring you home, Nick. Every child needs its father."

He laughed again. "And, please, can you explain to me why Wu is with you?"

"Because he knows now," Juliette answered.

"It's time," Christian's voice said.

Nick's heart was about to break but he knew he had already used too much time.

"We have to stop now," he said to Juliette. "I love you, Juliette. I love you so much!"

"And I love you. Be careful yourself, Nick. I want you back in one piece."

He ended the call, feeling both sadness and lightness at the same time when he handed the cellphone back.

Chrisitan smiled at him. "Now you know," he said.

And Nick nodded. "Now I know ..."

_______________________________________________________________

Four Days later:

After Wu entered the coffee shop he had to look around to find the person he was after.

Damn, this place was full of people! It was nearly impossible to pick one out of the crowd. It didn't really help to know the one he wanted to meet wore a uniform as he did. There were several cops all around, at the counter, here and there in the room ...

Wu looked more carefully. and eventually he got lucky and found his target. Pushing himself through the crowd was the next challenge, and it wasn't as easy to reach the person as it was finding him.

"Morning," he greeted and leaned next to the other man.

Rico Gonzales turned his head and looked at him. "What a surprise! Wu, what are you doing here?"

"Maybe I want to try the coffee here," Wu said coolly.

Gonzales looked at him closely and shook his head. "Na, you don't. There's something else you are up to. Don't forget, I know you from the inside out!"

Too true.

Gonzales put the newspaper he was reading on the counter. "What do you want?" he asked.

"To talk to Hank Griffin," Wu answered openly.

"Not possible. You should stay out of that case, Wu," Gonzales turned around again, looking at the newspaper.

"Because your new boss doesn't want to?" Wu pressed.

Gonzales gave him a stare. "As if I would give a damn about what that guy wants!"

This was enlightening news for Wu. "Is that so?"

Gonzales shrugged and put the newspaper aside. A man next to him took it and flipped to the sports section.

"Hank's a good guy," Wu said. "He's only ... he thinks he's responsible for the disappearance of his partner, you know? He can't handle it."

Gonzales frowned. "That's the reason why Burkhardt hasn't been found yet?"

Wu shook his head. "He's been sort of taken hostage. Still alive, but ... ya know how that goes for detectives. They are pretty close to their partners."

This obviously worked on Gonzales, who stared first into thin air and started to nod thoughtfully. "Was Griffin responsible?"

"Nope, he was at the hospital when Burkhardt went missing. You remember that mess at the container yard two months ago?" He shrugged. "Now you know."

"Heck, I remember! Was grateful that we only had to deal with a little aftermath. You guys got the brunt of it, right? Was wondering why the feds didn't take over. Heard some of the perps weren't citizens?"

"That was our captain. We had to deal with the FBI last year, didn't go too well. This time he managed to keep them out," Wu explained. "But, look, that's why I need to talk to Hank. He'd listened to the wrong people but he's a damn good cop. I don't want to see him leave the force or go to jail for something he didn't commited."

Gonzales blinked. "Good luck with that. The gun we found in Griffin's hand is the murder weapon. And that was the only gun in the bathroom, no chance to hide, no chance of making it disappear. Not in the time we responded to the call."

"The vic is the brother of Hank's girlfriend," Wu told his friend. "Do you really want to kill the soon-to-be in-laws instead of first trying of make friends?"  
Gonzales frowned again. "The vic's sister is Griffin's girlfriend?" he repeated.

Wu nodded. "And I need to talk to both. There's something going on you don't understand. But if we don't find out what really happened in that motel room, an innocent man will be charged, and probably more things will happen we don't want in Portland."

Gonzales thinned his lips. "I don't know ..." he mumbled.

"I'm not coming to you easily, Rico, you know that. And I don't want to pull out the photo ..."

Gonzales stared at him. "You still have it?" he asked.

Wu grinned. "Best evidence ever. Why I should get rid of it?"  
"You promised! I'm screwed if anybody finds out! Wu!" Gonzales gulped. "Don't do that!"

"Don't make me use it. All I want are five minutes with Hank."

Gonzales stared at him, and Wu smiled back.

Sometimes, he thought, he missed his job. Maybe he should have become a criminal mastermind like those super-villains in the comic books. That would have been really cool. But he choose this, the law, and, well, a quiet life in Portland wasn't too bad anyway.

"You're evil!" Gonzales snarled. He sighed, long and deep. "I'll see what I can do." With that he stood up and went to leave.

"Give me a call then. And thanks, Rico. You're the best." Wu smiled.

The stare he got told him the complete opposite but Gonzales nodded. "And we'll have to have some serious words about that photo afterwards." With that, Gonzales left.

_________________________________________________________________

Christian came out of the elevator and stopped when he saw the door to Adalind's suite stood open wide.

"Damn it!" he cursed, and ran the ten steps down the floor to stop at the door framce, looking inside.

A housemaid was cleaning the room. A room bare all the personal items Adalind had stored there, which weren't that many at all but enough to show a little presence.

Gone!

Christian cursed himself and stepped into the room, still looking around.

No sign of Adalind. And that was possibly the worst news he could collect!

"Can I help you?" the maid asked after she noticed him.

Christian turned to her and nodded. "Yes. Do you know what happened to Miss Schade? She was staying here."

The woman looked at him, surprised. "She moved out this morning. Her aunt took her with her," she answered. "The aunt was staying with Miss Schade during the last couple of weeks. Not the most pleasant person."

Christian's heart sank.

He lost one of the targets! He hadn't paid much attention ro Adalind after he found the Grimm, because she already knew her role in the plan. Nick not only needed to learn the plan but was also in need of having someone around. So, instead of watching over both, Christian had let Adalind slip through his fingers. And one of the other parties got hold of her.

"Did you know her well?" the maid asked.

Christian blinked and nodded without thinking too much about it. "Yeah, I think I was the closest friend she had here. Unfortunately I couldn't check on her for the past few days ..."

Who was this mysterious aunt? Maybe he could find out which party got Adalind if he would found out who took her.

The maid pulled an envelope out of a pocket of her skirt. "Maybe this is for you then?" she asked. "Are you Christian?"

He startled and nodded again. "Yeah, that's me." Taking the envelope he inhaled deeply.

Hopefully Adlaind was clever enough to tell him who was here with her. Hopefully he had something he could work with.

He left the suite, opening the envelope. The two tickets he brought her were inside, and a short note, saying:

"I'm sorry but I have to go with her. I signed a contract with her first, and this contract is binding. Wish there was another way ... Adalind."

Christian stopped and thought all of the information he had collected before finally going to Adalind. Then he put the envelope with the tickets and the note in a pocket and pulled out his cellphone. Dialing a number he went back to the evelator.

"It's me," he said after he heard a voice. "I'll at your place in ten minutes. Be prepared! We are starting a war."


	5. Search & Rescue

A/N: Thanks for all the favs and follows :)! And a very special thank again to MerlynPyndragon for her great work as a beta!

 

"That is what I was talking about!" Eric looked at him with a big grin on his face and opened his arms. "See? Exactly the color I had in mind for you."

Nick did his best to keep his face stony. He didn't feel well, especially now with the tailor fussing all around him, pulling here, pushing there. The jacket was nothing more than a vest now, the vest nothing more than a piece of clothe. The white shirt was actually ready but so bright Nick feared he would dirty it just by looking at it.

"This may very well bust the premiere!" Eric seemed excited about his own suspicion. "La Traviata bombed by a Grimm. Would be a premiere itself. Do you like opera?"

The tailor, a small man Nick suspected to be a Maushertz or maybe a rabbit-like Wesen he'd never seen before, seemed pretty scared. Because of Eric or because there was a Grimm in the room, or maybe both, Nick couldn't decide. But the man was near panic.

"Never been to," Nick said, as polite as possible. "I fear I'm too much an ordinary guy for this."

Eric pulled a face. "What a shame! Well, you will learn to love the opera. I usually never let any show slip. But I prefer Mozart."

"Well, they are all dead guys, as far as I know ..." Nick shrugged. One of the pins the tailor had used pricked his shoulder.

"Verzeihen Sie bitte, mein Herr." The tailor lowered his head.

"No problem," Nick answered.

"Maybe I should give you some information about this specific show," Eric said thoughtfully. "Could help you figure out if you like it or not. Actually, La Traviata is a pretty good starter if you ask me ..."

"Not that I would choose that!" Nick muttered.

Eric turned around again, staring at him. "You should care, my dear Grimm. You definitely should! I'm a regular at the Erstes Haus am Platz."

Not that Nick really cared about that. But he'd never been to Vienna, he didn't know the opera house.

The tailor stepped aside, looking over Nick carefully.

"I will send you a little material you can work with. Who knows, maybe you will enjoy the premiere," Eric told him.

"Too kind of you. But I'm more interested in someone else," Nick said, watching the Royal with some interest.

Eric didn't move a muscle. If he really knew the plan failed, wouldn't there be something in his face?

"She will be here soon, my dear Grimm, don't worry!"

Nick tried his best to continue to keep his stony face.

Eric didn't have a clue that he knew Juliette was still free! And that was something he could really enjoy right now. It was the first time Nick felt like he was a little ahead of the the Royal since he awoke here at the castle.

The tailor plucked at the jacket.

"Are you done?" Nick wanted to know.

The little man nodded, looking like he would faint any second.

Nick smiled as friendly as he could, and was slipping out of the jacket when there was a knock at the door.

"Come on in," Eric ordered after he looked at his watch. "My secretary. The sooner you two meet, the better for the teamwork between you. With the time I want you to plan the security for me yourself, my dear Grimm," Eric explained and turned around. "But this is not my secretary ... Who are you?"

An older and bald man, who had just entered the room, lowered his head. "Your highness, I fear I don't have good news. Christian just called in sick."

Nick frowned.

Wait a minute! Christian? The same Christian who came up every evening for half an hour, giving him a little food and talking to him, letting him make the call to the States?

If so this was probably the best position for a spy anybody could dream of, he decided. Except wife or lover Christian would really be in the perfect position. There was not much space any closer to Eric.

"Called in sick? He lives here!" Eric said.

"He drove to the hospital, your Highness," the stranger said.

Sick?

Nick hoped this out-of-the-blue sickness would not affect the plan or the escape. If so he was screwed. Because he didn't know his soon-to-be companion or any further plans, and he didn't have the tickets they needed for the flight to Marrakesh. They were both probably screwed then ...

"That is really unfortunate," Eric said.

"I'm sorry, your highness," the man repeated, lowering his head again.

What if Christian had changed his mind? Nick asked himself. What if Christian didn't come back at all? What then?

"That is a bit ... disappointing," Eric said. Lifting his chin he looked at the stranger like a scientist at a new insect. "Well, I'm sure Christian will be fine ..."

Again here was this little timbre in his voice, the warning not to go any further.

Nick knew this point of Eric very well now. At least, he hoped he knew the most porminent triggers that put the Royal into a rage.

"Well, maybe he will be back later." Eric still sounded too enthusiastic about the absence of his secretary. "Did he tell you which hospital he wanted to go to?"

"I fear not," the bald man answered.

Eric shrugged. "Well ... I fear this meeting is postponed, my dear new employee." He turned around to Nick, looking at him.

"Too bad. I was looking forward to it," Nick answered.

"We will find another topic to discuss. There are still plenty of things you have to learn."

The bald man looked up, not sure if he could go or not.

Eric frowned, blinked and turned to the stranger again. "Don't you have work to do?" he asked.

"Of course, your highness, of course," the man said. Bowing and stepping backwards to the door again, he left the room.

"Pretty impressive, huh?" Nick couldn't avoid to ask.

"Pretty useless," Eric answered, turning back to him. "Now, where were we?"

***

Christian pulled over and stopped only long enough for his new companion to jump into the car before he accelerated back onto the street.

"You really look ready to start a war!" the passenger said in a heavy German accent, fastening the belt. "What happened?"

"I lost her and the baby," Christian answered.

The man to his right hand whistled. Rubbing his unshaved face he looked out of the side window. "I bet no one is too happy about that."

"I know where she is," Christian said, changing lanes to leave the city. "You could have watched over her while I was busy, you know?"

"I was busy," his passenger answered.

"With what? Spying on one of the others? I told you who the only person is who really matters to us." Christian changed lanes again.

The passenger pulled a face. "Well, we will fix that, okay? It's not like we wouldn't do anything."

Christian took a deep breath and bit his lips.

He had told Sean several times that it was wrong to bring Meisner into the inner circle. But Sean was absolutely sure they needed the Swiss. What he needed him for he never shared with anyone.

"What do we know? You said you knew where to find her?" Meisner asked.

Christian nodded. "At first she made negotiations with the Schwarzwald-Roma. Do you know about them?"

Meisner shook his head. "No."

Christian wasn't too thrilled about this statement either. "They are gypsies. Like the Walachei Sinti. Both tribes departed a while ago. The Schwarzwald-Roma are nearby, and they are dealing with the Royal families."

Meisner sent him a stare. "You mean they are spying for them?"

Again Christian shook his head. "They are trading for the Royals, that's what they do. I couldn't find out who but I know the Roma Queen Stefania Popescu made negotiations about the unborn. That was one of the leads I had for to find the soon-to-be mother. Looks like she already had signed a contract."

"That's not good," Meisner said.

"It's fixable, even if it is sealed with blood. There are possibilities. But they have taken her away," Christian ended his report.

"The mother of the child? What about the child? Is it safe?"

"She's still pregnant."

As soon as they passed the City sign Christian stepped on the gas pedal again, speeding up the Mercedes.

"Wow! I thought we should arrive there in one piece!" Meisner laughed.

Christian gave him another look, tightening his fingers around the steering wheel.

"And now you want to bring her back, I suppose," Meisner asked after a while.

Christian nodded. Looking in the driver side mirror he checked once more if another vehicle was following them. "And we don't have plenty of time. The premiere is tomorrow night."

"Premiere of what?" Meisner blinked, confused.

"La Traviata, the new season will open with this opera," Christian answered.

"And we care about that why?"

"Because the escape-plan needed a set up. And this set up is the opera."

Meisner lifted his eyebrows. "I don't want to swap places with them. I hate the opera!"

"Well, we are more about to start a battle inside the Renard family. Whoever is paying Stefania is an insider. And we will definitely piss this someone off with getting Adalind back."

Hopefully they would have the chance to free her ...

"If you brought the weapons, I'm all in." Meisner grinned.

Christian gritted his teeth. Of course he was ...

***

Monroe was worried and tired. But mostly worried. He hadn't slept last night and now he was watching both women, Rosalee and Juliette, packing some things for their journey. And his heart was aching simply thinking of letting them go.

Sure, Juliette had to find another of her kind. He got it. She somehow had to learn more than only the essentials, and no one, not him or Rosalee or Renard or anybody else, could really train a Grimm. He tried with Nick, and had to face the fact that he probably failed after Nick was kidnapped.

But Rosalee? Rosalee should stay here. She should run the Spice Shop, plan the wedding, run with him at night, be by his side.

If one of the two women asked him now, Monroe was sure he never would have packed his bag faster. He felt responsible for Juliette, he feared to lose Rosalee if he let her go now.

What could he do now? Rosalee took his word that he would stay here, be the Obi-Blutbad for Wu to teach him right – and finally come to a conclusion what was wrong with him. And he always had been known for sticking to his word.

But he couldn't really let them go! Not on their own! He would never be able to forgive himself if something happened to them.

"You okay?" Juliette asked, head tilted and a worried look in her eyes after she closed the fridge.

He would grab some groceries first after they were gone, Monroe made a note. Or he would follow them with his old WV Beetle ...

He nodded, still looking worried.

"You sure? You look like your mother just passed or something ..." Juliette lifted an eyebrow.

Rosalee, who came back from putting the food into Nick's truck, looked at him with a little smile. "You have to understand, this is important! For her, but also for us."

He knew that. Well, his brain knew that. But that didn't keep his heart from bleeding ...

"Everything will be okay," said Rosalee, embracing him from the side. "We will probably be back in a couple of days, who knows?"

"Could be if my suspicion is right," Juliette agreed.

But in two days a lot could happen. A Grimm on a rampage could kill Rosalee, taking Juliette hostage or try to brainwash her ...

"I know," Monroe finally mumbled.

Rosalee squeezed him a little and kissed his stubbled cheek. "Don't worry! We will be careful," she promised.

Well, in this world you could fall out of the bed in your sleep and die from a broken neck. So, anyything could happen to Rosalee. And, of course, to Juliette.

Monroe couldn't help himself. Over the last eight years he'd lived on his own after he broke up with Angelina. He never spent a second thought of the question of whether there was the perfect match for him beyond his living room window. He had been sure he would die alone one day, and the only ones grieving for him would be some of his costumers.

But then Nick happened to him, this weird little Grimm with the huge puppy eyes who dragged him into the world outside his front door again. And in that time Monroe realized that he'd finally found a new crowd to hang out with, a new pack, a new sort of family. And when Rosalee saved his life with a brick and decided to stay here to fill in for her murdered brother, and Nick slowly grew into his role as a Grimm, and all the drama with Juliette and ...

That night at the container yard was where it had ended and begun again. Both he and Rosalee, hurt and maybe a little weird, had decided months ago to keep it simple, to give their relationship time, a lot of time. They had just entered a new stage that night before the zombies attacked Portland and Nick was abducted. And that night in the container yard, fighting those people, watching some of them die, running out of treatment, having the newbie Juliette with them ...

Monroe remembered the zombie that had come after Rosalee as he was attacked by three others. He'd tried to warn her, tried to get to her. And he saw the weapon in the hand of the zombified man. Later they found out that he was from Kansas City and worked there as a security guard. But that night he wasn't protecting something, he only was out on a rampage, he was ready to kill, and he tried ...

"We will be back as quickly as possible," Juliette told him again and smiled up to him.

Monroe tried a smile himself, sure that he failed because he was once more in the container yard, back on that night last May, attacked by three zombies himself, one of them a Blutbad, and he saw the security guard aiming at Rosalee and pulling the trigger -

Rosalee came up to him, looking worried now. She knew, he was sure. There was this little connection between them. They knew what the other was thinking of.

Seeing that zombie firing at Rosalee changed the world a second time for Monroe. And it did for her. They both realized that time was the thing theu couldn't change or stop. Everything was possible, and both of them were mortal. That was the moment Monroe decided to make his proposal to Rosalee. And she told him afterwards it was also the moment for her, when she decided that she needed him at her side, that she wasn't able to let him go.

One moment, one bullet, missed the target but was close enough to remind them on their mortality. It had changed their relationship, had pushed them forward, had turned them from close friends to something more ...

"I will call you every day," Rosalee told him now. Her voice pulled him back from his memories, put him on his feet again.

Monroe feared nothing more than losing her. He'd found his soulmate, finally! He had made so many mistakes in his life, sometimes for a feeling he mistook for love. But the real thing, the true love, he first experienced with Angelina. And she was that kind of girl who brought him into trouble, something he didn't want in his life anymore after what happened in Moonshine, when he was visiting his parents, still with Angelina. No one knew about this, no one knew why he changed, stepped back from the wild times and into the church, becoming a Wider. No one, except Angelina. And Angelina couldn't understand why this was such a big deal for him.

Rosalee could. She knew about what happened back then, ten years ago. He'd told her, as she told him about the time she was a drug addict and ended up in prison. If anyone else had found out he would have been gone to prison too, and maybe he would have ended up on death row ...

Rosalee understood. She understood him better than anybody else. So he told her, secrets he never shared with anybody else, not even with his parents, and surely not Nick.

Now Rosalee stood right before him, looking up to him, smiling. And she leaned forward and kissed him softly, oh so soft!

"It'll be okay," she whispered. "I will be back soon."

Monroe nodded, mouth shut. He was sure if he opened his lips he would begin to howl like a wolf, the wolf he was in his soul.

Rosalee smiled and touched his cheek. "It will be over soon – everything! Nick will be back and we can finally plan the wedding. What do you think? Should we ask for a double feature then? Maybe Nick wants you to be his best man!"

That would be fun! It would be fun having Grimm at their wedding. Monroe started to smile just thinking about it. His parents would think he was crazy, having a Grimm as his best man. And with Juliette now, whom Rosalee wanted as her bridesmaid ...

"See you, my big lovely wolf," Rosalee said, kissing him again before she turned and left the house.

Monroe saw her jumping into Nick's truck. Juliette was already behind the steering wheel and started the engine now.

Monroe watched them leave, and he had a bad feeling about this ...

***

Christian stalked through the woods, trying to avoid every moise he could make. Meisner behind him was loud enough. His heavy boots crushed every single branch in their way and Christian started wondering if the gypsies were all deaf, not to hear these noises from the woods.

He could see their camp site. A huge bonfire burned in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by half a dozen trailers. Surprisingly modern trailers and trucks. People were standing near the fire, drinking beer and chatting, or walking around.

Christian's attention was drawn to a tent, a little aside from the trailers, with a satellite dish at the far end.

"What's that?" Meisner asked, nodding in the direction of the tent.

Christian glanced at him with the question on his face, to see if Meisner really was serious about the question before he answered.

"My bet: that's Stefania's."

Meisner lifted his eyebrows. "A tent?"

"Why not? She's probably the mightiest Hexenbiest on this earth, and she's the leader of an entire tribe of people. She can act as eccentric as she likes. No one will openly criticize her for her lifestyle." Christian looked around, trying to lift the darkness of the night in the woods in the hope of finding out if they were already been noticed and were being stalked by gypsies.

"And what now?" Meisner asked.

Good question. Christian did not really know what to do. They had to make sure Adalind was here, but he had no idea how without giving up their hideout in the woods.

"We have to find out where she is," Christian answered hesitately.

"And how do we manage that? I don't know if you've noticed, but these guys seem to know each other pretty well. We cannot simply stroll into their camp and say hi and ask where they've hidden a pregnant woman and former Hexenbiest."

Something made Christian's stomach ache. Something he missed. Something that probably could change everything.

He never found out why Adalind went to the gypsies, he realized. There must have been a reason why she wanted to trade her baby. And this reason he hadn't found out so far. But it could be important in this situation. It could be the solution he was seeking.

"What do you think?" Meisner asked.

Christian stared at the tent, trying to make out something. There were some really bright lights in there, and he could make out the silhouettes of those inside.

"What do you think of that?" he asked with a little smile.

Meisner blinked and turned around. He was obviously surprised after he noticed how bright the lights from the inside were.

"We should check out the tent first. Maybe she's there," Christian suggested. "If we don't find her there we'll come up with a new plan."

Meisner shrugged. "As long as we will eventually get rid of Royals it's fine with me."

Christian nodded. "Then you should go back and take the guns."

Meisner glanced at him. "And do what, exactly?"

Christian sighed and turned around. "We need a distraction. Adalind knows me, but she doesn't know you. So I think it might be in everyone's best interest that you take the distraction part while I keep looking for Adalind."

Meisner thought about that and shrugged. "Give me the keys. I've an idea how to distract them."

Christian gritted his teeth a little but gave the keys of the Mercedes to his partner. "Be careful! These people can be very dangerous! And don't forget, they are Wesen!"

The flickering light from the bonfire illuminated Meisner's face. He didn't seem too impressed. "I can deal with that." He shrugged and went off, making the same loud noises as before.

Christian told himself once more that he really needed to talk to Sean about their newest ally. Meisner might be motivated, true, but he also was not exactly what Christian needed as handyman sometimes. He really wished he could trust the guy better but that was not easy to do.

Finally, after Meisner vanished into the darkness of the woods, Christian turned around again, looking at the tent and hoping to find a lead.

Adalind was supposed to be here. If she wasn't he was out of options, and the baby most likely lost. He also had to find out who was working with with the gypsies. Taking Adalind back would probably help a little.

Christian was very careful, nearly crawling through the bushes and small trees forming the border between clearing and woods. A huge fern was the best hideout he could find that drew him nearer to the tent.

Still there were several shadows moving, one he could see was obviously female, two others male. A fourth shadow he couldn't really make out, this figure could belong to both. And as it was sitting on something so he couldn't make out the height.

Christian waited, listening carefully into the early night.

What if Meisner simply took the car and drove off? What if Christian was abandoned here with hopefully Adalind and who know how many gypsies?

He looked back into the dark woods but couldn't make out anything. The bad possibilities continued to whisper in his inner ear, making him nervous.

He had to trust Meisner this time. No matter how he thought about the man and whether if he wanted to continue the partnership later, he had to trust him now.

Just when Christian wanted to return into the woods, to seek for Meisner and hope to get a better start next time, a huge detonation made the ground beneath his feet tremble. Christian stared down, confused, and in the next moment a second detonation seemed bigger.

What the hell was going on? He'd asked Meisner for a little distraction and got something that felt like a Third World War was about to break loose.

Screams and shouts came from the bonfire. Christian could see people running. But, as far as he could tell - and the majority of his sight was blocked by the tent - there was no fire, and all the trailers seemed to be okay.

What was going on here?

A third detonation shocked birds and other animals nearby into motion. Christian could hear wings, little feet and hoofes and animal shrieks all around.

Whatever this was, it was helpful!

Christian noticed two men coming from the tend and marching to the bonfire. A moment later a third person appeared at the entrance to the tent: Stefania, queen of the Schwarzwald-Romas and also a wicked and maleficent Hexenbiest, was leaving the tent.

Christian waited for the fourth shadow he'd seen but there was no more else emerging from the tent.

What now?

Christian looked over his shoulder, thinking of what he might be able to do.

He'd never been a hero, and he was sure this wouldn't be the first time.

A smaller explosion on the other side of the camp let the gypsies away from him.

Christian didn't hesitate any longer. Ducking down he left the huge fern behind and ran to the back of the tent, not exactly knowing what to do next.

Screams and gunfire were now audible from the other side of the camp. So, the fight was commencing.

This could end in a war within the Renard family, Christian realized again. The child was precious, not only as good. The Royal house of Renard was slowly descending into extinction. The last child born into the family with the powers of the Royals was the cousin Sean had killed two years ago. There were no children, and half of the princes weren't married or didn't even have a girlfriend. The three princesses were all sterile. If Adalind's baby carried the Royal power and turn out as fertile one day it could save the whole family. And every prince and princess would kill to get their hands on this baby, not to mention those of the other six Royal families and the Dragon's Tongue in Asia.

Christian scanned the tent but didn't find any entry on this side. He looked around the corner to see one of the two men from before now not far away from the entrance, obviously watching over whoever was inside.

Damn!

Christian searched for his pocket knife and turned to the rear of the tent. It took him a little time and patience before the point sunk into the cloth. Christian reminded himself that, if they made it out of here alive and well, he really had to sharpen the knife in the not so far future. It took him what felt like ages to cut the material and make himself a small entrance. He only could hope that, if Adalind was really inside, she wouldn't panick seeing the knife slicing a hole into the tent.

Christian ripped the cloth apart and squeezed his head and chest into the tent, carefully watching his surroundings.

He was right about the sattelite dish outside. There were two computers running and on a huge flatscreen he saw some movement. A movie or TV-show? Could be both, and the volume was down.

The ground was covered with thick carpets, and there was an ottoman standing near an opening to the entry of the tent. And on this ottoman sat ...

"Adalind!" Christian sighed in relief and squeezed himself completely into the tent. Stumbling the first steps he smiled at the blond young woman.

Adalind looked back, but seemed somehow ... not completely present. Her eyes were glassy, her face showed not a glimpse of emotion.

"What did they do to you?" Christian asked, looking around.

On the other site of the entrance stood a cabinet with different flasks and bottles and jars. Christian tiptoed to it, glaring at the entrance before scanning through the collection, not completely sure what he had to look for.

The days when Sean's mother taught him and her son some of her Hexenbiest recipes were long gone but he remembered vaguely that he'd seen someone in a state like Adalind was in before. So, if there was a treatment, it had to be here!

He hoped to get lucky, and read the tiny labels.

Outside there was still shooting and screaming and yelling. Whatever Meisner did, he was doing his job pretty well so far. But the sensitive moment would come when they had to leave the gypsies alone. Christian wasn't so sure the gypsies would let them go.

"Maedesuess" he read on a label and a little light turned on on it. This should fix the problem.

Christian marched back to Adalind, who still sat motionless on the ottoman, staring into thin air.

Wait a minute. Wasn't this a toxic plant?

Christian looked back to the cabinet. Then he turned to one of the computers. To the table screen and keyboard stationed on top. To the tiny flask he saw there. And to the screen where an email was open.

He hesitated again, listening to what was going on outside.

Meisner's distraction was still working, he didn't hear or see anybody. The guy guarding the tent still stood there, waiting and not knowing that there was an intruder behind his back.

Christian hastened over to the computer and looked at the screen, trying to remember everything and to put notes down on a sheet of paper.

"Glad to hear about the success of our first agreement. I will be there as soon as I can, but this could take a while as there are some interesting developments over here in Portland. As I really want this rare treasure you offered me I will give you US 10,000 $ more if you will inform my caretaker to do what I pay him for.

May there be other occasions for a future cooperation."

Portland?

Christian frowned, reading the mail again without any clue what it was about. But he had a bad feeling in his guts reading it.

Finally he took the flask and turned around, sneaking back to Adalind, who still was sitting on the ottoman without reacting to anything around her.

He looked at the label on the flask and startled a bit.

"Flugsalbe."

Now he had it!

Flying potion, Flugsalbe, separated the mind from the body. The receiver turned into a mindless marionette while the brain was huper-stimulated.

That meant he needed something to put Adalind's mind back into the here and now. And he didn't know if he could manage to rise to this challenge at all. Outside the tent was an armed man watching, there were he-didn't-know-how-many other men out there, ready to fight to the very end.

He could leave, now, while Meisner still was performing his distraction. But he would run short of ammunition not too far in the near future. And that was the moment the gypsies were waiting for.

Or he could stay, not completely sure why, and search for the antidote and take Adalind with him after he cured her from the nasty Flugsalbe.

Or ... he could try to drag her out of there.

Christian stored the flask in his pocket and took Adalind's arm. "Come on!" he hissed to her.

Adalind didn't move at all. Dragging her was like trying to make a dead weight move. How could such a small person could turn out to be this heavy?

Christian tried again, pulling a little harder this time. "Adalind, we have to go!" he said, determinded. But still she wasn't moving at all.

When he was about to start a third time, a voice asked him: "And what do you think you are doing here?"

Christian froze for a moment, eyes wide. Then he turned his head and stared at the bulky gypsy at the entrance to the tent.

Second mistake in a row, he told himself. And this time he couldn't blame someone else. He'd let his guard down trying to get Adalind out of there.

The gypsy came closer, and Christian straightened slowly, letting Adalind's arm go and trying to get the gun in the backside of his jeans.

Next moment the gypsy was above him, throwing his right fist into Christian's stomach and trying to get hold on his other hand with the gun. The huge fist closed around his wrist and Christian winced, breathless, before his fingers opened and the gun dropped. That hurt!

And the gypsy wasn't done with him. This time the fist made contact with Christian's face. He reeled around, stars dancing before his eyes, before another blow slammed into his back so hard, he thought his kidney might have burst.

Stumbling, he tried to regain balance but he already felt dizziness robbing him of his coordination. His knees were full of pudding, the blood rushing in his ears and leaving a pulse at the point of impact at his jaw.

The gypsy came closer again, his arm in the air, ready to smash Christian's bones into pieces. And then ... a single shot, blustering and deafening loud, and then there was a tiny little wound in the forehead of the giant gypsy. The man fell, somehow reminding Christian of a chopped timber tree and there was a silly feeling that he had to be prepared for the impact, as it would shake the earth.

It didn't. The man collapsed, blood and brain seeping from the little wound in his forehead. And in front of the ottoman, the smoking gun still in her hands, stood Adalind, and stared at him with an ashen face, shocked about what she just did.

She shot the man! Shot him to death! A loud shot!

Christian was aware that suddenly there were only single shots from outside anymore, and he got the bad feeling that more gypsies were on their way here after they'd heard the shot in the tent.

Still feeling a little shaky in the knees he crossed the body on the floor, carefully took the gun from Adalind's shaking fingers and, after a second of hesitation, he embraced her like a friend.

"Thank you for saving my life," he whispered in her ear, setting her free again but taking her hand. "And now we have to go. Quickly!"

He turned to run to the cut where he came in before, but realized that Adalind had yet to move.

Dear God! Was she still ... ?

"I killed him," Adalind whispered.

"You shot him," Christian corrected.

"But ... he's dead!"

Being on Flugsalbe didn't was exactly the right method to become a genius ...

"Otherwise I would be dead by now. I like it this way better," Christian said with a smile.

He could hear the footsteps now. And there were many!

"I've never taken a life without using my powers," Adalind told him.

Powers? What powers?

Christian got the impression again that he was missing part of the story. But right now there was no time to catch up.

"Can we please move this conversation to a later time?" he asked. "I don't want to rush but I fear there are others coming for us."

Adalind stared again at him, eyes wide. "But I -"

"You've never shot someone to death before, I got it. But this is not the right place to discuss this more deeply. Unless you want to stay here," Christian told her.

"But ... the contract!" Adalind cried.

The mysterious contract ...

Christian looked around. "Do you have an idea where it could be?"

Adalind shook her head.

"Then we will find another way to keep you out of it. Now, please!" Christian pulled a little and finally Adalind took the first step to follow him.

Finally!

Still she was too slow for his taste right now but she let him drag her with him, which was a huge step in the right direction for him.

Christian climbed out of the tent, Adalind on his heels. He took her by her arm again and led her as quickly as possible to the nearby bushes and small trees. Once inside the woods the gypsies wouldn't be able to find them anymore. And the moment they arrived at the car ...

Christian froze once more, staring into the darkness.

Meisner still had the keys to the Mercedes!

Christian turned around, watching half a dozen gypsies entering the tent.

They were running out of time now. They needed to leave! ASAP!

Christian took Adalind's hand and rushed forward as fast as he could with limited vision. And he sent prayers and requests to Meisner to stop his fake attack and join them.

A scream behind him. He couldn't understand what the man screamed but he knew it was about the body in the tent and the absense of Adalind.

"We have to keep moving," Christian whispered in her ear and went further.

More single shots came from the other side of the camp.

How long it would take Meisner to realize that he wasn't the primary target anymore. Hopefully fast enough before the gypsies put one and one together and tried to capture him and interrogate him.

Christian bit his lips.

What now? He didn't have a car because Meisner had the key. The Mercedes belonged to Eric. And Eric would definitely be clever enough to find out the truth the moment he learned about the shooting and the missing car.

"Where do we go?" Adalind asked.

Good question!

Christian stopped and listened before finally turning back to the camp.

He needed the key! If Eric found out ...

Another shot, a single one but much louder than the ones from Meisner. And a distant scream.

Christian's face went pale and he stopped for a second.

The sound of heavy steps coming from the camp. Many feet in heavy boots, not only one man.

Meisner was gone, in best case dead, in worst case ...

One last shot, from the distance, answered him.

Meisner was dead!


	6. Unexpected Visitors

A/N: And once more, I cannot praise her high enough for the stunning work she's doing, many, many thanks to MerlynPyndragon for her help as beta!  
____________________________________________________________

"Is this the tea my wife always gets? Are you really sure? I mean, you don't know how she's like if she doesn't get her tea." Bud Wurstner rolled his eyes, touching the black bag on the counter between them. "If this isn't the one, I don't know what to do. She's so nervous lately, you know? Trouble sleeping, having vivid dreams. All the stuff. Me and the kids, we are getting that like full time! Oblinger visited lately, and I tell you ..."

Monroe did his best to ignore the slide headache that suddenly kicked in on his right temple.

He liked Bud. The Eisbiber was a good guy, hard worker, fellow Timbers-fan and someone he could trust. Only his tendency to chatter was something that got on Monroe's nerves sometimes. And this time was such a time.

"I tell you, Oblinger wasn't all pleased." Bud shook his head, completely diverging from the topic they had before.

Monroe realized that he lost some time, that he hadn't gotten the complete story about Oblinger's visit at Bud's. But he could imagine what Oblinger had experienced.

"This is the tea Rosalee usually sells to your wife, Bud," Monroe answered, taking the full loop back. "I know that because I was in one room when Rosalee mixed it up as a special order for you wife, dude."

Bud looked up at him, silent for a moment. Then he took the bag and nodded. "Okay, well then ..." He turned, and Monroe felt bad.

"Oblinger, eh?" Monroe asked while he watched Bud walk up to the front door.

And it worked! The Eisbiber turned around again, making a huge gesture. "What I can tell ya? She's getting weirder and weirder every day!"

The door opened from the outside, but Bud was already on his way back to the counter again. "I tell ya! I've no idea what's going on with her. She was never that way before, and I've known her my entire life!"

A woman Monroe had never seen before entered the shop, closing the door before starting a tour.

Monroe looked down to Bud. "Rosalee knows about that?" he asked.

"I told her. And I think she was at my home one time," Bud answered. "Since then, I've been getting the tea."

So Rosalee mixed it especially for Bud? Maybe he should be jealous?

"It IS the tea Rosalee mixed," Monroe said again. "I'm sure of it."

Bud nodded, this time he looked a bit more content. "That's good to hear."

Monroe smiled.

"Hey, did you hear about the Timbers game next Sunday?" Bud changed the topic.

A Timbers game was always ... special, Monroe thought. But this news sounded weird. "They are on summer break," he said.

"They have some test games. The new coach wants it," Bud told him. "What about you? Are you coming?"

That was something, Monroe decided. Something he could look forward to. The question was, would he be able to go there?

"Maybe," he answered.

"You have to! I'll get us the tickets." Bud frowned. "By the way, what's up with Rosalee? Is she still recovering?"

Monroe smiled dryly. "She's good. On a little trip with Juliette, you know. Women's stuff, something about the wedding, I guess."

"So, Juliette will be the bridesmaid?" Bud guessed.

The unknown woman browsed through the shelves without paying too much attention to the chat the two men were having. But somehow Monroe got a bad feeling only by looking at her.

"Yeah, she will," he hesitantly nodded. "We just asked her and she said yes. Hopeful it won't be too stressful for her."

Bud nodded wisely. "Let's hope! That poor woman has been through enough!" He looked at his watch and then up again. "I have to go now. But don't forget: next Sunday, Timbers game! We're counting on you!"

Monroe was wondering if the Eisbibers really cared for him or if it was more about how he could look dangerous enough that no other fangroup would try to take their seats at the stadium.

Bud turned around and went to go, and bumped right into the stranger.

"Oh, excuse me, ma'am," he said, wogeing and blushing at once.

Monroe smirked a little.

The woman looked down at the little Eisbiber. "My fault," she said. And somehow Bud seemed to change without actually changing.

Monroe blinked. Bud was moving like a sleepwalker, his face barren of all expression.

Frowning, the Blutbad asked, "Everything okay?"

The woman looked at him, and smiled again. "Maybe," she said, dragging Bud aside so she could come up to the counter. "I'm looking for some herbs."

Bud stumbled more than walked to the door but left the shop before Monroe could go after him. Not that he could with a stranger inside the shop.

Maybe he should call Wu?

He dragged himself back to look at her and recalled her words. "Well, if you would like to give me the list I will get them for you," Monroe answered with another smile.

"Very well," she answered, taking a little sheet of paper where she wanted to leave her list on.

Her scent was strange, something Monroe had never smelled before. Sweet and herb at the same time, but with an underline that gave him some serious chills.

She gave him the sheet of paper back.

"Thank you," she said. "I have to go now. But ..."

"But?" Maybe he was a little weird himself today. But surely not the same way she was.

She smiled, a little like a sphinx.

Monroe did his best to smile back. The Blutbad inside him wanted to run, flee, leave as fast as possible and never come back. This woman was dangerous! Her scent told him, her smile told him, her gestures confirmed it. Serious danger, not a little next-door trouble. This scent said Death. And that was something, neither Monroe nor his second nature wanted have anything to do with.

"Give me a call, Blutbad," she smiled at him, turned and left the Spice Shop.

Monroe swallowed.

This wasn't good!  
__________________________________________________________

Nick still didn't know what to do. Christian had given him some details about the planned escape, but not enough to leave him alone. The little guy didn't show up last night, and now it was noon, the last try-on with the tailor for the suit he was supposed to wear tonight.

Said tailor did an amazing job over the past two days, and had nearly finished his work. There were only some last details to fix. But no needles everywhere anymore, and the trousers, vest and jacket looked amazingly good, Nick had to admit. He never had a custom-made suit before, and now he was surprised that he actually felt good wearing it.

"Really, you will steal the show from the premiere, you know that?" Eric, lounging on a divan, said and nodded, pleased.

Nick turned to one side, looking at his profile, then the other side. But he couldn't find anything to argue about besides that he still wore his boots and needed a shave.

After a knock the door opened and Nick froze, relieved but shocked at the same time, when he saw Christian entering. But how he looked!

A black eye and a huge bruise on his jaw, left arm in a Glisson's sling and some scratch marks on his hands and neck.

Eric suddenly stood up, astonished. "And what happened to you?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

Nick remembered to breathe and turned around himself, giving Christian a sympathetic glance.

"I'm sorry, your highness," Christian said and lowered his head, "but I fear I was robbed the other night."

"Robbed?" Eric echoed.

The tailor went off into the back room. Nick saw him closing the door and frowned.

Christian nodded but moaned a little afterwards. Holding his temple with the palm of his hand he tried a smile. "I fear the Mercedes was stolen from me while I was out on some errands the other night."

A stolen car?

Nick looked at Christian, still frowning. If his ability to read other people still worked, then he'd just seen the small man lying.

Eric didn't seem to notice. "The Mercedes? You mean your staff car? Who took it?"

Christian shook his head carefully. "I don't know. Never met the man before. After I came from the post office he came out of a dark alley and beat me down, took my keys and drove off," he explained.

Again the little voice inside him screamed a loud "Liar!" but Nick ignored it. "Have you been to the police?" he asked instead.

Eric turned around. "Very good, my dear, very good." Looking at Christian he asked: "Have you?"

Again a careful nod. "I reported the car stolen, yes. After I came from the hospital."

"So I assume that's the reason why you were missing yesterday?" Eric supposed.

"I'm sorry, your highness. I called from the hospital but ..."

"It's okay. I was only wondering," Eric interrupted the explanation. "Actually, you look like crap, my dear. But it's the right spirit that you came to me as quickly as you could."

Christian pulled a face but the prince didn't seem to see it.

Nick smirked.

So, whatever Christian had done to look the way he did now, it seemed important enough not to tell Eric. Perhaps it had something to do with the plan? Well, if he was supposed to fight his way to wherever he had to go, he would. He was ready and he wanted nothing more than to leave this place.

"Could you describe your attacker?" Eric wanted to know. "Could make the things easier for the police."

"Unshaved, bulky, blond hair." Christian shrugged and grimaced, holding his injured shoulder.

Pretty average, Nick thought. "Did you get a good look at him? Maybe the police could send you a scratch artist."

Christian looked at him as if he was seeing him for the very first time. "They already did, yes. And who are you?"

Nick remembered that they never met before in public and cleared his throat.

Eric seemed also to realize that there were two obviously strangers talking to each other. "Oh, you remember, we talked about him. This is my new security guard. Meet my private secretary, Nick."

Christian nodded. "Yes, I remember. So you are early. I just gave away the order for the renovation," he said. "Is your - was it your wife? - also here? She could make some suggestions about the colors and the furniture, I think."

Nick stepped back a little, mouth open but unable to answer.

He knew Christian wanted to warn him, but this topic in this environment still made him sick.

"She isn't. She has some last things to wrap up in the US," Eric explained. "But she will be here soon. Help for her is on its way. I only wanted Nick as fast as possible. He will guard me tonight for the first time to the opera."

Christian lifted his eyebrows. "Well, I hope you will enjoy the show then," he said with a little smile and came nearer. "I'm glad to meet you, Nick." Reaching his hand Christian glared at Nick. And Nick took the hand.

"Be ready!"

Nick nodded a little, his heart once more pounding so loud it was a miracle that Eric didn't hear it.

"I fear I distracted you, your highness. The meeting starts in a few minutes and I have some papers to sign for you," Christian said then, turning around. He nodded at Nick. "I'm sure we will work together well, Nick. Enjoy the opera tonight."

"He will, oh, he will," Eric said. With a sigh he went to the door. "Don't keep my father and the minister waiting. Nick, I leave you in good hands. My personal coiffeur will take care of you. And there are some shoes in the back room. Try to choose a pair which compliments your outfit. We will meet at the car tonight."

Christian gave him a little smile again before he followed the Royal, limping.

What the hell had happened?  
__________________________________________________________

Hank Griffin was lying on the bed in his cell at the second precinct, staring into thin air.

The last two months of his life were replaying over and over again he tried to figure out how he missed that his big love, the one he wanted to propose to, was a Wesen. Not to mention that she was not only Wesen, but also a relative to the burglar who kept Portland unsettled over the last six weeks. Until he and Renard entered the motel room and ...

There was another problem. Hank couldn't recall what exactly happened after he opened the door to the bathroom and the officers from the second precinct entered said bathroom with him sitting on the toilette seat and Constance's brother Remy dead in the bathtub.

Hank was sure his memory loss had something to do with Constance being Wesen. Maybe he really snapped for a second, maybe he really was Remy's killer. He thought he remembered a melee, but then his memory blurred out again until he found himself sitting on that damned toilette seat.

The gun – he was told it was his – was still in his hands. He'd shot it. But he also remembered the gun felt unfamiliar, not like his usual Glock. He asked several times to see the gun but his interrogator turned his request down. And they also forgot about him having the right to an attorney.

Hank still stared into the air when footsteps came up to his cell.

Where had he been wrong? What did he miss?

He didn't know. He only knew there was something going on, something was wrong, and he couldn't help but blame Constance. Meaning, Nick was dead because of a Wesen, now he was in custody because he'd killed another one.

"Griffin, you've a visitor," a voice told him.

Blinking Hank sat up, watching that small sergeant with the snarky humour, who always reminded him of Wu, opening the door for another man in uniform.

Another interrogation? Or did they finally get him an attorney? Was he being charged now?

The hallway to the door was pretty dark so Hank couldn't make out who was coming for him now. He was perplexed to finally see Wu, who was grinning at him.

"Sort of nice to meet you," the sergeant greeted him. "Now you cannot run from me. Maybe I should have tried this earlier, huh?"

Hank stared at the sergeant and thought of ignoring Wu completely. Until he realized that ignoring Wu wouldn't work at all.

"What do you want? Why you are here?" he asked instead.

Wu shrugged and leaned against the bars. "The captain sent me. He wanted to come himself but ... it's sort of complicated right now, you know. And don't give me that look! Renard is worried and he believes there's been some foul play."

"Renard is one of them, Wu! He would tell you anything to make you work for him!" Hank snapped.

Wu lifted his eyebrows. "One of them? One of whom?" he asked, only to shake his head a moment later. "Skip that! I'm not here to discuss your newly developed hate. I'm here because we all want to help you!"

"Who all? Monroe and the others? I'll give you some advice, Wu. Stay away from them, and take Juliette somewhere else before they can kill you two off like they killed Nick!"

Wu didn't blinked. "Nick's very much alive," he said.

"Nick is dead! He died nearly three months ago at the container yard. If he wasn't dead back then, he's now!" Hank stared angrily at the sergeant.

"Well, then I just got a call from heaven ... or hell? Who knows? Maybe cellphones are able to receive calls from the beyond these days ..."

"What?" Hank was confused. Finally he stood up and came over to the bars. "What are you talking about, man?"  
Wu looked up at him, grinning. "Nick called last week. Well, not directly Nick, it was someone else who did the actual call, but he gave the phone to Nick. We all talked to him, Hank. He is pretty much alive, as hostage in Europe. And he needs all the help we can give him."

Nick, alive?

Hank stared down into Wu's eyes, trying to read a lie on the face of his coworker. But there was only excitement, and sorrows for him.

"You must be kidding!"

Nick had to be dead! They never found even a hair of him. Never! And the Wesen, all the stuff he heard after he came to the precinct the next day. Wu's on the edge, most likely losing his mind forever. And poor Juliette, all calm and tears and worried. They had never found anything from Nick after they found his cellphone, badge and gun.

"That's impossible!" Hank hissed, suddenly having trouble breathing.

"Nope, I talked to him. It was our Nick," Wu said. "And that's why I came here today. We need you back, Hank. So much happened since you got accused. And Nick will hopefully be free soon, then we all need you with us. We want to help you, but you have to help us too."

Nick alive ...

Hank stared again into thin air.

That changed a lot for him. Nick alive would mean he wasn't responsible, he hadn't failed his duty to be there for his partner. It would mean ... maybe Constance hadn't tricked him into this relationship.

"They refuse to send an attorney to me," Hank said. "I haven't spoken to anyone."

"I know." Wu smirked. "It's a little complicated. The captain's cousin is running the second precinct now, and he's also probably the one interrogating you. He never had a badge or even experience in police work. He came here, changing the rules and doing what he thinks is right. We need to change that."

Hank frowned. "Renard's cousin is the captain here?" he echoed.

Wu nodded. "Believe me, I've talked to a few fellas here, no one is really thrilled to have him. But the commissioner still thinks it's a good idea. We have to make him face the reality."

"How did this cousin end up as head of a precinct?" Hank asked.

"Keeping Portland weird. This is one of the mysteries we will find out later. The captain thinks it's probably a spell," Wu explained. "Are you in?"

Nick alive, and he having issues with his memory. Maybe he was Remy's killer, maybe not. But he wouldn't find out as long as he was in custody.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked.

Wu grinned. "That's my Hank!"  
__________________________________________________________

Eric barely looked up when the door to his office opened and Christian entered the room. Luckily the half-Maushertz was still at his desk when Eric had called him to come in.

Usually, he wanted to do everything according to his new property himself, but all this paperworks the human government wanted to get filled out was boring and unnerving in his eyes. In old times all of this wouldn't have been necessary, he knew. Only hundred years ago he could have claimed Nick as his own without getting any requests or orders to fill out.

Christian remained by the door, still a painful picture with all the bruises and his arm in a sling, but so far he had acted surprisingly tough for a Maushertz, even with his other half being a Royal.

"You called, your highness?" Christian asked after Eric kept silent, still rummaging through all the paperworks.

Frustrated, the Royal finally gave up. Leaning forward on his hands, he looked up and nodded. "I'm glad you're still around. I suppose you wanted to leave early and go to bed," he said, surprisingly sympathetic for his own taste.

Christian shrugged and winced immediately. Rubbing his injured shoulder he came a little closer. "I was about to call it a night, yes. But if you need me ..."

Eric sighed and started tapping all the official applications he required signing. "Indeed I need your help. Did you know what nonsense these people at the human government want to know for a simple legal alien assignment?"

One look in Christian's face told him he did, and Eric remembered the countless other times he had to deal with foreign affairs and Christian had to manage the paperwork.

He should probably give him a raise, Eric thought. A raise and a warning. He was well aware of Christian having contact with Sean in Portland. Not that often, to be true. One of his cousin Viktor's agents had reported the last time both men met and that was months ago. But one time the suspect, always the suspect.

"I will do that for you, your highness. Whatever you need." Christian bowed a little.

Eric looked at him again.

He trusted Christian, and he protected him back then after Viktor stated he had been in Portland instead of Venice for the weekend. Eric remembered Sean and Christian were classmates in elementary school. And he thought, after the fact that both men shared sort of the same path as being half Royals, they might be closer as it would be good for Christian. However, Eric had just gotten a call from the police. The Mercedes was found near an abandoned camp of the Schwarzwald-Roma. And they found a body, belonging to a Martin Meisner, whose appearance, as far as his passport could tell, looked astonishingly like the description of the attacker Christian had mentioned as the thief of the Mercedes.

Meisner was a well known member of the resistance, who had only shortly joined their forces and stumbled during his short career as a rebel and outlaw from one wrong turn to the next. That Meisner was the thief was clear to Eric. And, as dumb as Meisner might have been during his short life, no one would attack their own agents. So he had the proof that Christian wasn't a traitor.

"Very well," Eric stepped back from the desk and headed to the safe to get some money for the evening. "Too bad you are not interested in the opera," he said, opening the heavy door after typing the code to unbolt it. "I would have bought you a card for tonight's premiere. La Traviata is a good one for starters."

He didn't see Christian turning his head to him after he opened the safe, he didn't notice how Christian's eyes widened after he saw the little wooden box inside. He also didn't see how the face of the Half-Maushertz went ashen.

Eric was about to take a money bundle when the door opened again and the butler came in. "There's a call at the living quarters of your highness," he said.

Eric frowned. "Excuse me?" He turned around, forgetting about the money.

"What I said. A call on the private line, your highness." The servant bowed.

Eric frowned. "Who?" he asked.

It should be known that tonight was the premiere. No one in their right mind would distract him with a call.

"Your cousin, sir," the servant told him.

Christian looked quite amused but didn't move a muscle.

"Which one? I have more than a dozen." And the most of them weren't a big loss if something were to happen to them ...

"Prince Nicolaus is calling from St. Petersburg, your highness. What would you have me do?"

Eric startled.

Wait a minute. Didn't he just send Nicolaus' brother Vlad to St. Petersburg to observe the rumour of an imprisoned Grimm there?

"Can't is wait?" Eric asked.

For his father, he would likely leave or miss the opera. For Nicolaus? Most unlikely!

"The prince said no. He wanted to talk to you, and he is very determined," the servant told him.

Eric exchanged a look with Christian before he started rolling eyes. "Oh, for Heaven's sake!" He winked with two fingers and marched to the door. "You'll be alright in here? Won't take too long," he told Christian.

"I'm fine. Thanks, your highness," Christian answered.

Well then ...

"Move on!" Eric ordered the servant and followed.

His private and his business lines were different, so he had to go upstairs for private calls. It was only because of the size of this castle that it was impossible to draw both lines together. Not that he hadn't tried before.

Following the servant, heading upstairs a little later and finally entering his personal rooms in one of the towers, he realized once more how big this castle was. And that he had to work on this little problem with the telephone. It was nonsense what he did here. It would have been so much easier if Nicolaus had called him on his business line or his cellphone.

Eric felt anger swelling inside him. Nicolaus better have something important to tell, otherwise it may be his last call entirely.

In his private rooms he took the first phone he could lay his hands on and said, a little breathless: "I hope this worth it. I am about to leave."

"Oh, it is, my dear cousin," told him the rusty voice of his cousin with a heavy Russian accent. "I'm calling to warn you. You may be crown prince, but you are not immortal. Next time you send an assassin to kill me, find a better one!"

Eric frowned, recalling what he knew about the situation in St. Petersburg.

Nicolaus had claimed against his brother Vlad that he was the owner of a Grimm. Vlad had nothing better to do than to tell Eric. Eric sent Vlad to Nicolaus' castle to find proof and, if there really was a Grimm, also find out where this Grimm was coming from and who it belonged to. He never sent an assassin to St. Petersburg! That was ridiculous!

"Excuse me?" he asked. "What assassin?"

"Didn't you sent Vlad here?" Nicolaus asked, voice raised.

Yes, he did. He did more, he gave Vlad permission to use his private jet.

"Vlad came to me, telling me you could have something that definitely did not belong to you. I sent him your way to prove what you claimed. I never sent an assassin! If I wanted you dead, there would be much easier, and cheaper ways, to get rid of you," Eric finally said.

"I don't believe you!" Nicolaus screamed.

Eric didn't react.

"You sent my brother here to spy on me!" Nicolaus said.

"That is close enough to the truth, yes," Eric answered.

"And now you are telling me you never gave the order to assassinate me?" Nicolaus continued.

Eric rolled his eyes.

Why oh why was he, besides Sean, the only member of this family with a working brain and enough functioning cells in this brain? How does one misunderstand the order: "Find me evidence!"?

"I didn't," Eric said. "Ask Vlad, he will tell you the truth, especially with me on the line. I suppose he's somewhere near you."

Okay, Vlad was as dumb as bread and had the intelligence of an amoeba but he never received any killing order, and so he should recall it himself. Whatever he was up to had nothing to do with Eric.

"I fear that's not possible," spitted Nicolaus' voice, full of triumph and hate. "I am standing right above my brother, Cousin Eric. Right above him ..."

"Well, then I suggest you ask him," Eric said, still in the dark about what was wrong in the picture. "What the hell you are talking about here?"

"So it was Vlad's idea to kill me? To whom you will sell that as the truth?"

"It IS the truth!" Eric took some deep breaths. And suddenly the truth clicked in. "You didn't kill your own brother, did you? What the hell you were thinking?"

"Of course I killed him! He was about to kill me!" growled Nicolaus.

Eric closed his eyes when a sharp pain slid through his temple.

Yes, Vlad and Nicolaus wasn't exactly close. He thought this was the main reason why Vlad came to him after Nicolaus taunted him. But he had never expected they would go so far. In fact, he had never spent a second thought about their feelings for each other.

"Now what?" Again there was triumph in Nicolaus' voice. "Will you still lie to me? You sent my brother here to kill me!"

Eric massaged the still pounding temple with two fingers, eyes closed. "Idiots!" he finally said. "Both of you!"

And for a second there was refreshing silence on the line.

"What?" Nicolaus yelled then. "I'm an idiot? Because I got rid of the killer you sent for me? Very classy, Eric!"

"I NEVER sent your brother to kill you. I sent him because you lied to him in the first place. You told him you held the Portland Grimm, and that's a lie." Eric's voice sounded very controlled now.

Some days he envied his father for being no longer in the mental state to control the family. As much as Eric wanted the power, he really was tired of some parts of his own blood. To play with Sean was amusing, especially because Sean wasn't in the position to harm him. But Sean was intelligent. True, he killed their cousin two years ago – a shame – but Eric was also a little thankful for this as said cousin tried his very best to claim some power. But Vlad and Nicolaus? That was another story.

"I taunted Vlad, that's all." Suddenly the voice sounded soft. "I didn't expect him to run straight to you, telling you."

"Well, he did. And I didn't want to risk any police on any of our properties. So I gave Vlad permission to use my private jet and check out your castle for a Grimm. I knew you don't have the Portland Grimm, but you could have taken another one. And I didn't want trouble. You hear me?"

Still Nicolaus was very calm. Probably he started to realize what he had done.

"How do you know?" Nicolaus finally asked.

That took him a long time!

"Because I have the Portland Grimm. He just started to work for me." Eric inhaled deeply. "And you get better rid of the body before police show up at your place. And, just in case you really have abducted another Grimm, make sure he's not owned by anybody causing trouble to the family. If you don't, what I suggest is that you'd better think about what you just did. I won't forget this, cousin Nicolaus, I won't! And now excuse me, the opara will be starting soon."

Eric ended the call. His hands were shaking and for a moment he wanted to smash the phone into the next wall.

Idiots! Altogether idiots! Nicolaus for killing his brother, and Vlad that he wasn't prepared for this.

Eric needed a moment before he finally put the phone back on its station and left his private rooms again to march back to his office.

Why on earth he was cursed with this family? Why did he have to think for all of them?

When he returned to his office he found Christian sitting at his desk, head bowed above the paperwork for legalizing the Grimm. And, Eric realized just now, his safe was still open, but nothing seemed changed. The money, the documents, the little wooden box, all was still in there, in the same spots he left them.

Eric smiled at his secretary. "I know why I can trust you, you know? You may only be a bastard but you are loyal."

He didn't see the drop of sweat running down Christian's face, and he ignored the little shaking of the hands of his secretary ...


	7. Preparation

A/N: Thanks for your patience and loyality. And a huige special thanks again to MerlynPyndragon for her awesome work as a beta!  
____________________________________________________________

Nick was a little frustrated. Looking in the mirror he had to confess he never looked better, his clothes sharper and his haircut, together with a shave, neater. He never had a custom suit before, or a silk tie. His suit back in Portland had been bought when he still was in LA, and he was lucky it still fit.

But underneath the clothes, the styled hair and the clean shave he still looked a little pale, his eyes hollow. Not as long as two weeks ago was when he saw his face in the window for the first time since he was shipped from Portland, but he was still not as healthy as he usually looked. The light suntan that always laid on his cheekbones and his nose was completely gone now, and, despite that he just had a clean shave, there was a slide five o'clock shadow on his cheeks and his jaw.

No, he didn't look too healthy, not to someone who knew him. To strangers he would look okay but not to himself.

The door handle was pressed down. He saw it in the mirror and turned around, thinking it was now time for getting into the car.

Bodyguard for Eric, this was absolutely ridiculous! Eric didn't trust him, he didn't trust the Royal. He would be there tonight, yes, but the security bullshit was nonsense! Tonight he was ordered to prove his loyalty, to kill Adalind. And still Nick had the warning of the dying Klaus in his ears: "As long as you haven't killed an innocent, Eric doesn't have any real control over you."

Adalind was everything but innocent in Nick's eyes, but he understood what Klaus had meant. He killed the Wesen part of Adalind back in Portland. That meant she was all human now. For Wesen that might be considered "innocent". To kill her now would push him under Eric's thumb. And he could only hope the plan Christian had set up to free him would commence before he was forced to murder Adalind – as much as he would probably enjoy it ...

The door opened and Nick saw Christian entering the room.

"We don't have much time," Nick was greeted.

"I know. I'm waiting here before going to the car," he answered.

Christian sighed. "I'd hoped to be there tonight but Eric just gave me work to do," he said and went to the small table near the two chairs, the only furniture besides the mirror in this room. "So I will give you the things you need now."

"Alright." Nick followed the little man and saw Christian pull an envelope from under his injured arm and, after opening it, shaking the contents onto the table: a passport, a small bundle of money and a folded map.

Nick recognized the emblem on the passport and startled. "Canadian?" he asked.

Christian gave the passport to him. "The best I could do in this short amount of time," he said. "And to the most of us Canadians and Americans sound the same."

Nick nodded and received the money, strange banknotes with foreign drawings on them. Euros. This wasn't the first time he had ever held this money, but the first time dealing with it.

Christian also gave the map to him and looked a little lost then. "You have to hide all those things very well," he said.

Nick smiled and nodded. "I will." He kneeled down and opened his shoes to put in one the money, in the other the map and, with a little force, finally also the passport. He shuffled all of them into both of his shoes before he finally put them on again, lucky that those shoes weren't custom made like the suit.

Christian watched this with raised eyebrows but didn't say a word.

After Nick came to his feet again he moved a little. The shoes felt weird now, more filled and a little slippery maybe, but he could get used to it.

Christian looked down at his feet. "Will that work?" he asked, full of scepticism.

"Tell me another place and I will try. It will work." Nick smiled.

Christian nodded and pulled a cellphone out of a trousers pocket. "This is a prepaid. Shouldn't be traceable but don't overuse it. It's only for emergencies." He gave the phone to Nick, who stared at it as if he was seeing a cellphone for the first time in his life.

His heart started to quicken pace.

A cellphone! Suddenly he felt the urgent need to call Juliette, to hear how she was. But he fought this down and thought for a moment, before he hid the cellphone between his trousers and the belt underneath the jacket. Shouldn't be visible there, he hoped.

Christian nodded.

"And how this will work now?" Nick asked.

"At the opera you will meet your travel companion," Christian told him. "Dirk, a good friend of mine, is working at the house. He will meet you two behind the stage and hand you the keys to a car. The car should be parked opposite to the stage door. If there's no space Dirk will tell you."

Nick frowned. "How I will be able to recognize this other person I will be teamed up with?" he asked.

Christian bit his lips for a moment, then he nodded. "She's blond, blue eyes, very attractive. I told her to wear a black gown tonight, and she will carry a little bigger bag as we had to change some plans and give the other stuff to her. You two will meet, as I said, behind the stage at the end of the first act." He hesitated for a moment, obviously listening for any noises outside before he explained: "The female lead will start to sing the last aria at the end of first act. It's pretty easy to recognize. If you are unsure, ask Eric, he knows La Traviata by heart and would probably think you will enjoy the show more than he might think you would. Use an excuse to leave and go straight to the stage entrance. It's left from Eric's usual place, you cannot miss it. There, Dirk will meet you and your partner, hand over the keys to the car and give you two clothes to change. You have to hurry. Eric might be distracted by the performance, but after the song is over he will notice and immediately start to search for you. By then you will have to have left the building. It's possible that there will be Hundjaegers outside, so, so be careful. As long as you two are in Vienna, you are in danger. The flight to Marrakesh is booked for tomorrow night. That's doable, so don't worry too much about that. In Marrakesh there are other tickets under your new names for a flight Teneriffa, Miami."

Nick startled again. "Why first Marrakesh?" he asked. "I wanted to ask you that for a while now."

Christian sighed and listened again for a second. "Because there are only three ways out from Europe to US: the usual route would be from Frankfurt in Germany with a stop in London. That's impossible to manage under these circumstances. The other way would mean also from Frankfurt into Asia. And the Dragon's Tongue is only awaiting to get their hands on a Grimm. They also partly are working together with the European Royal families, so the chance is high that you would be recognized and captured again. Marrakesh is necessary to bring you out of here. And the plane always needs a refill somewhere. So, Teneriffa was the best bet I could get for you."

Nick nodded. "Understood. What about the borders? We need to drive to Italy, right?"

"There are no closed borders on the continent anymore, at least not that way. Mostly the stations aren't active anymore nowadays. The passport you need for the flight. But, as long as you don't draw attention to you two, there shouldn't be a problem. Do you know how to use a route planner? I remember the car will have one."

Nick nodded. "I know."

Christian smiled nervously.

Nick smiled back and gave the other man his hand. "Thank you for your help," he said. "And I hope this won't put you in danger."

Christian's smile moved a little. Again he reached his hand into his pocket and pulled ... a small little something out of it. Nick forgot to breathe for a moment after Christian opened his hand and offered him a small metallic object he knew too well.

"This could raise a lot of havoc and danger. But I think you deserve it more."

Hesitantly Nick took it and stared on it before he held it by one of its wings and opened it. A small key came in sight.

Nick looked into Christian's face. "Is this ... ?"  
"That's the one the Renards got from one of the first Key Grimm, yes. It's usually with the king, always with the king. So I was surprised to find it in Eric's safe."

The inside of Nick's mouth was dry.

The key. It looked mostly like the one he got from Aunt Marie more than two years ago. But he could see the imprints were different. There were other lines and other tiny signs he couldn't remember from the one he inherited.

"This will put you in mortal danger," he whispered. "If Eric finds out ..."

"He won't. He trusts me. And even if he did find out, I'm always ready to go," Christian told him. "Take it with you and use it wisely."

Nick still couldn't believe it. "You've done so much for me. I don't know how to thank you." He looked up.

Christian smiled again. "Be successful and get home to your fiance," he said. "That will do it."

Nick nodded and put the small key into the pocket of his trousers when he heard footsteps coming up.

"Good luck, Nick. You are really an extraordinary Grimm. It was an honor to meet you." Christian went to the back door and slipped outside the moment the other door opened and the Severin cousins came in.

"Time for your grand entrance, Shorty!"

Still a little smile lifted the corner of Nick's mouth when he followed the order and left the room – and hopefully this castle forever.

***********************************************

Juliette took a deep breath after she left Nick's truck. The air smelled so much different here, deep inside the woods and far away from Portland.

"It's nice here," Rosalee said from the other side of the truck.

Juliette nodded and looked up. Sunbeams were glittering through the trees, turned the illuminated spots into bright colors. Birds were singing, and somewhere not too far away a woodpecker was hammering. Insects hummed lazily in the early afternoon.

The blockhouse they had stopped at looked older and much smaller now, Juliette realized. Moss was growing on the trunks and the ceiling, the tiny windows dark. The small playground at one end of the house looked abadoned, the old swing creaking with every breath of wind. The wooden seesaw seemed it would not survive the next pair of children riding it. A rusted caroussel leaned askew in the dirty sand.

When she had been here for the last time? Juliette frowned, remembering how much fun she'd had as a child, swinging and chasing and playing hide and seek here. There were always other kids around back then, as well as the little sensation in the stomach caused by the deep, dark and dangerous woods only was a stone's throw away.

"It was ..." she whispered, feeling melancholic.

The door to the blockhouse opened and a bearded old man came out, staring at the unsuspected guests, obviously not knowing what to do now.

"We've closed for business," he called.

Juliette nodded. "I see that," she answered. "But I thought it worth a try, Jim." She put on her best smile.

The man blinked at her. Lifting his Stetson he scratched his temple for a moment before his face lit up in a smile. "Is that Lil'Julie?" he asked. "My, girl, look at you! You are a grown woman now!"

Juliette walked over to him and got a hug from him. "It's good to see you, Jim. I wasn't sure if you were still around," she said.

Rosalee hesitantly came closer, head cocked she looked at the old man closely.

"And who is this?" Jim wanted to know after he set Juliette free. He offered Rosalee his hand. "Anyway, a friend of our little Julie is a friend of mine."

"That's Jim Cunnings. He's a friend of my Uncle Norman," Juliette told the Fuchsbau. "Jim, meet my friend Rosalee Calvert."

"Mister Cunnings," Rosalee smiled.

Jim shook his head. "No one calls me a Mister out here. I'm Jim, plain and simple."

Rosalee smiled brightly. "Very well, Jim. I'm Rosalee then."

Juliette felt a weight falling from her heart. She wasn't entirely sure how much longer she'd be able to see Jim. Not so much because of his obviously bankrupt business but more because of his age. He was old when she was a child, and now ...

"Well then, come on in," he invited them and took the lead. "Be careful with your heads. The entrance is a little small."

Juliette remembered. She had had a lot of fun back then because every adult sooner or later knocked his head at the entrance. Yes, that was funny back then, and it surely hasn't changed a bit.

The interior of the blockhouse was still the same, only aged a lot. Tables and the benches were all made from wood, the windows seemed a lot smaller on the inside than they were on the outside. Paintings on the wooden walls, the old counter riddled with dusty glasses and bottles.

"Not so much changed in here," Juliette said.

Jim smiled with a sad look. "It's been a while now since I closed the restaurant. The shop I ran occasionally for the few people out here. They don't have a lot of other possibilities, you know? Time's changing, and unfortunately this change isn't good at all for small businesses."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Rosalee said. "I'm running a little shop myself in Portland. Took it over from my brother. But without my regular costumers I wouldn't make it either."

Juliette looked astonished at Rosalee after this confession. She didn't know that the SpiceShop wasn't running as good as she thought. On the other hand, didn't Monroe mention something similar a while ago?

Jim led them to a table near the counter and told them to sit down. "A drink?" he asked.

"A tea, please," Juliette ordered, and Rosalee nodded. "For me too, please."

Jim grinned down at them and left them using a small door behind the counter.

"Why are we here?" Rosalee asked lowly.

"Because if anyone knows where my uncle is, it is Jim," Juliette answered. "My grandparents had a cabin in the woods. My uncle inherited it."

Rosalee nodded. "That was your guess. You think your uncle is at the cabin."

Juliette smiled dryly. "Yes. But unfortunately I will first check how he is. The last time I met Uncle Norman he was desperately trying to keep his mind straight. Well, now we know why." She sighed.

Maybe it really was because she had known about Wesen and Grimm before this started, but she still wondered why she was able to take this new development into her life so easily. To be true, she worried much more about the child than she worried about her becoming a Grimm. She hopefully knew what she would have be dealing with now, maybe that was the difference. All the time she spent during the past months learning at Nick's trailer, knowing that some of her friends were Wesen.

Juliette didn't want to imagine how it must have felt for Uncle Norman – probably! Not knowing what happened to him, everyone around him telling him that his mind was affected by something they couldn't explain. Juliette wondered where he found the trunk with the weapons and the books.

Jim returned from the kitchen, carrying a tray with three cups, one filled with black coffee, and at the sides of the other two dangled teabag strings. Jim put a cup in front of everyone before he sat down in front of his.

"So, what is going on, Julie?" he asked. "Why you are here?"

"I have to talk to Norman," Juliette answered, now very serious. "And this isn't that easy. I don't know what he thinks of me or if he would even accept me at the cabin."

"Not to mention that you first have to make sure, right?" Jim smiled and blinked at Rosalee. "I'm too old, Rosalee. Maybe I'm a little gruffy sometimes but people here know me."

"I would never think of something different," Rosalee answered with a smile. "As I've said, I know how that works. Grew up in a small business."

"That's good." Jim nodded and sipped. Putting the cup back on the table he stared for a moment into the black surface of the coffee before he said, "Norman is better nowadays. Not good enough to really keep up with the rest of humanity but he's content now. Lives out there in the woods, hunting for a living. Sometimes he comes to get stuff he cannot grow or kill himself. The last time he was with a girl, think they live together out there. Norman mentioned her parents were dead and she didn't know where to go."

Juliette frowned.

A girl? What girl?

"So he sort of adopted her?" Rosalee asked. "That's a pretty nice gesture."

"Well, she's definitely too young to be anything else for him. Don't know how old, she looks like a late teen," Jim explained. "Norman's better since he met her. I think he has a reason now to keep himself together not like before." He closed his mouth and looked at Rosalee again.

"Do you know where he found that girl?" Juliette asked.

Jim nodded. "Actually yes. I found her in here one morning," he explained. "Think she thought this place was abandoned and broke in. Norman came here to buy a new fishing line. Somehow he and the girl were connected the very first moment they saw each other."

Juliette and Rosalee exchanged a confused look.

"Why didn't you call the police?" Rosalee asked.

"Because the girl was panicking. I swear, I never saw someone in a more desolate state than her that morning! And I've seen a lot of crazy people. Norman had an influence on her, found the right words to calm her down. As I've said, there was a connection between them from the very first moment. I doubt that there's more between them, Norman's too old and the girl too young."

"So, you know her?" Juliette asked.

"I know she came here, and I think she's from the east coast. Her accent sounds a lot like that. Do I know more? No. I don't call the police for desperate people who are only searching a place to sleep and something to eat. And she's a lot better now since she's together with Norman. Think they are both stabilizing each other. Cannot be wrong then."

"Well, that's a little unorthodox," Juliette said slowly.

A sharp little pain went through her heart. She had always felt close to Norman, as a kindred spirit. She couldn't stand him at the mental institution, which was why she never visited him there. But she also always hoped that he would try to stay in contact with her, that he would visit her and Nick in Portland, that he would be there when she needed him. To find out now that he seemed to avoid any family member and lived together with a surrogate daughter hurt.

"Who could not wish him well?" Jim asked. "After how the family treated him. No wonder he broke contact with your mother. I was confused about you. I always thought you two were pretty close."

"We were," Juliette nodded. "I don't know. After I went to school to become a vet I was pretty much buried in the books. I don't know what happened. Never met him again, I always thought he still had a little contact with my Mom but ..." She shook her head.

Jim frowned and glanced at Rosalee. "So, you never broke with him? I thought Norman had told me," he asked then.

Juliette startled. "I would never break with him! He was the reason why I wanted to become a doctor. Well, okay, not in the human fielt in the end but ... what did he tell you?"

A bad feeling was growing in her stomach.

What if her mother had intervended? What if she had told Norman lies? Heck, she told lies, because Juliette never broke with her uncle!

"He didn't say anything," Jim answered. "But he avoids talking about you at all. That's why I thought there was a fallout between you two maybe."

"There never was."

Rosalee sipped from her tea but listened.

"Mom and I aren't the best anymore," Juliette tried to explain. "After Dad died I pretty much lost contact with her. She let me believe Norman was dead. I just found out about him alive. That's the reason why we came."

Jim raised his eyebrows. "That's a story you should tell Norman then." He shook his head in disbelief. "Your mum, eh? Ya, she always was that way. But I never thought she would go that far. What a ..." He stopped himself and ended the swear by clearing of his throat. "Look, girls, I can try to contact Norman on radio. If his radio is repaired by now. But I cannot guarantee ..."  
Juliette stood up. "No, that's enough. Thank you for the tea and the information."

Rosalee followed her, still silent.

Jim looked up to both of them. "Be careful when you really want to go to the cabin. And ... don't wait another fifteen years to visit again."

"I will come in regularly, I swear." Juliette smiled and turned around, leaving the closed restaurant.

"Do you think your mother told your uncle a lie?" Rosalee asked after they left and went up to the truck.

"I do! And I hope we will be able to get over it." Juliette felt a deep and dark anger coming from her very core.

This would be a lot more work than she'd expected it to be ...


	8. A Night at the Opera

A/N:   
1\. Many, many thanks again to Merlyn Pyndragon who's doing an awesome job betaing!

2\. I tried to find at least one person who could explain to me the dimensions and proportions of Vienna, as I've never been there in my life. I didn't find anyone so I had to research via internet with different (touristic and promotion) sites and different maps and traffic schedules to make something somehow halfway believable. But I didn't find anything on the opera about the inside. Maybe my fault, I don't know, maybe I didn't find the right sites. I tried my best to describe as vague as possible, limiting everything down to an average. I really hope you don't mind me - and if someone is reading this who has beento Vienna or (even better) lives in the area, I would be really pleased to be able to fill my blanks about the city.

_________________________________

The way to Eric's loge at the opera was a challenge on its own. Nick swore he'd never seen so many Wesen in one place than what he saw here. And all of them seemed ... different from the ones he knew. Not that he wouldn't recognize the species, no, but there was something about them that separated them from the Wesen in Portland.

No, not completely, he corrected while Eric shook hands with a Lowen, who was eyeing Nick with envy. The Lowen reminded him a bit of Donald Nidaria, the Lowen who killed his own wife and sought his freedom by hiring the Ziegevolk-lawyer Barry Kelogg. One of the best days in his life was when he, Hank, Monroe, Bud and Rosalee put an end to Kelogg's fraudulent career forever.

But something was different about these Wesen. Nick couldn't lay his hands on it completely. Just like Nidaria, this Lowen seemed more self-confident, more powerful.

Eric left the Lowen, who was still watching Nick, and Nick had to follow the Royal as fast as he could. This was his duty as a bodyguard. He had to watch over Eric. This seemed somewhat ridiculous because Eric hadn't given him a gun or any other weapon. And Nick was more than aware of Hans and Franz, both in dark suits and never out of sight, who were watching over him. Plus there was a dozen Hundjaegers out there, guarding the opera.

Nick had an idea why there was such a high level of security. He noticed there were several entrances to this building, with two main entrances down in the hall. The opera wasn't only built for performances; there also were several floors above them. He didn't know if they were still used, but they would definitely make good hideouts for anyone trying to get out of here. And outside the building there was a huge open space with different stops for buses and streetcars, as well as an entrance to the metro, some parking spots for cars and a taxi stand. True, the opera was in the middle of what Eric called "Old Town", and there were different routes out Nick had spotted on the short distance between the car and the entrance. No wonder that Eric had ordered as much guards as possible to watch tonight. This was not only the premiere of the new season for the opera, it also was supposed to be Nick's proof of loyalty.

When they finally arrived at Eric's private loge Nick was more than relieved to have it made so far. That the Severins were around somewhere in this building made him nervous. But he hoped Christian's plan would work.

The little key inside his pocket reminded him that, from now on, not only his own life was at stake. If Eric found the key, Nick was sure he would know that it was Christian who took it from wherever he found it.

The loge was bigger than expected, appointed with a dozen armchairs with heavy, carved armrests and chair legs, painted golden while the covers were made from red velvet. In the back Nick also spotted a small tea cart with glasses and bottles and a champagne bucket near a hidden door.

Eric and Nick were the only persons in here, and Nick really hoped there wouldn't be too many people around later, as the loge was surely the biggest but also, for his personal taste, a little small. He wouldn't like too many people in here.

Eric placed one of the chairs near the balustrade and looked down to the stage.

"Your premiere as my new head of security is pretty impressive, huh?" the Royal asked after a while.

Rustling, coughing and moving noises came from the auditorium.

Nick shrugged. "I don't think I made such an impression. It is more that you've brought a small army to watch over me, I guess," he answered.

Eric grinned. "I would chain you to the wall in here if it were possible, my sweet Grimm," he answered. "As long as I don't have the evidence of your loyalty, I fear you have to live with this army watching over you. I don't want to lose you."

"I got the impression," Nick answered and put his hands inside the pockets of his trousers. "And I am supposed to give you evidence tonight, right? Do you want to watch how I kill Adalind? Am I supposed to give you her head or heart or whatever other body part you prefer?"

Eric snickered. "Still snarky, my sweet Grimm. But no, I don't want you to do it in here. I am pretty sure there will be a possibility for you to kill her, all quiet and fast. I know, you would probably prefer to make her suffer after all she did to you. But I fear we don't have the time in here. So, make it quick, but be sure that her body will be found tonight. And, I don't have to mention that you'd better not leave any evidence there, right?"

"Don't you control the police? That's surprising!" Nick lifted his eyebrows.

A knock on the door behind him made him turn around.

One of the clerks opened the door and bowed his head. "Your highness, I was sent to ask for a minute of your time. Ambassador Hwung is requesting a word."

Eric rolled his eyes and went passed Nick. "You stay here," he ordered to no one in particular.

Nick saw a shoulder of one of the Severins appearing near the door. So, he was also watching in here and still a prisoner.

Eric left the loge and closed the door, leaving Nick alone.

Nick listened for a moment, but the noises from the auditorium were too loud to get a clear picture of what was possibly awaiting him on the other side of the door. So he finally decided to walk over to the balustrade and take a look around.

The theater was pretty impressive, he had to confess, with all the details the builders had done. The stage was still hidden behind a curtain, the orchestra already in place. He could see single musicians working on their instruments, tuning or cleaning mouth pieces. Some of them were reading sheets.

The auditorium was a huge movement in all. Nick looked a bit closer in hope to get a first glimpse of his soon-to-be partner. But there were so many blond women in dark or black dresses he couldn't figure out which one it might be.

A door behind him opened. It sounded different from the main door, so it had to be the hidden one.

Nick turned around and saw a man coming out of the shadows, wearing jeans and a shirt. When he saw Nick turning to him he woged nervously and showed his Wesen side to Nick: a Luisant-Pecheur, an otterlike Wesen.

Nick remembered Anton Cole, an artist and Luisant-Pecheur, who had been completely under the influence of a Musai Nick had also nearly fallen for.

"You are the Grimm," the Wesen said in a heavy accent.

Nick nodded. "And you are Dirk, Christian's friend, right?" he asked.

The Luisant-Pecheur smiled nervously. "I am. I'm here to help you and your partner out of here."

Nick lifted his eyebrows again. "So, she is already here?" he asked.

Dirk shook his head. "I thought she would, but..." He looked around. "She's not here, it seems."

Nick frowned, a glimpse a suspicion growing in his mind.

Dirk came hesitantly closer and offered Nick a key-ring. "I've filled the tank and the trunk. There should be enough food and water for you two to make it to the airport. You need refills on the way but there are several gas stations between Vienna and Italy, so that shouldn't be any problem. Keep your heads down. And for here it probably would be better if she changed her hair color. But I will ..."

The door to the walk outside opened and a small blond woman, dressed in a black gown and carrying a black weekender over one of her shoulders, entered the loge.

Nick's mouth fell open.

He didn't know before how he would react to seeing her again. He never expected to feel so much anger inside him, boiling from the bottom of his heart. His eyes turned hard, the muscles in his cheeks jumped and he clenched his jaws together to stop himself from screaming at her.

Dirk, on the other side, started to smile. "Oh, here she is!" he said friendly, looking at her. "May I introduce? Nick Burkhardt, this is Adalind Schade. You two are supposed to flee together tonight."

__________________________________________________________________

Adalind had been through much during the past few days. Abducted by Stefania and held under a spell, she barely remembered what happened to her before she woke up sitting on that ottoman in the tent the other night. And the walk back into civilization with Christian at her side could probably have turned out as a little romantic, if Christian hadn't wanted her to hurry and had kept looking over his shoulder every other second, gun in hand.

All she wanted now was finally to get out of this whole situation before she got killed or worse. And when Christian told her about the plan, the parked car, Italy and the flight to Marrakesch, and that she would have another escapee at her side, she was more than relieved.

Maybe, so she thought now, maybe she should have been more suspicious after Christian said her partner would be a Grimm. But, seriously, there were more Grimm on this planet than only her personal nightmare Nick Burkhardt!

And now she stood opposite to said Nick Burkhardt, who was staring at her as though he was about to chop off her head! And this other man, Christian had called him his friend, eyed them both with confusion.

"I suppose you two know each other?" he asked.

Nick nodded, muscles in his cheeks working and a cold glint in his eyes.

"Sorry, but where is Christian?" Adalind asked. "There is a huge no-go just in front of me."

The stranger nodded. "So, I take that as a yes."

"This man killed my mother!" Adalind pointed with one finger at Nick.

"I didn't!" he said. "But I wish I did!"

"Oh, yes, I can see that. It's been a year now since she was murdered. What about your awesome ability in solving crimes, huh?" Adalind asked

"What about your attempt to kill my aunt? Or Hank? Or what you did to Juliette?" Nick asked. Lifting his shoulders he suddenly seemed to grow a few inches.

"I followed orders!" Adalind claimed.

"Oh, and I should feel inspired by your work to look deeper into your mother's file then, I suppose?"

The stranger lifted his hands. "Just ... I got it. You two have a difficult past," he said.

"Difficult?" Adalind sized Nick from head to toe. "Yeah, you could go there. And that's why I need to talk to Christian."

"Impossible tonight, I fear. Christian is bound to the castle," Dirk said. "Look, you two have your new passports and you have your tickets. If you cannot go together then ... split up at one point and try yourself. Maybe better than what we had planned."  
"I am not going anywhere with him! He will kill me!" Adalind said.

Nick lifted his eyebrows in feigned surprise. "Really? You already know what Eric wants from me?" he asked.

Adalind startled. "What?"

Looking closer at Nick, she noticed the bitter lines around his lips, a glimpse of something in his eyes she'd never seen before. And ... wasn't he thinner than she remembered? A lot thinner?

"You don't want to go with me? That's more than fine with me," he told her. "I can't await to leave, but not with you on my side. You, who will betray me the very first moment you see a chance."

"I am sorry, but we don't have other options," the stranger interrupted. And finally Nick reacted to him, turning his head.

"This is the only possible attempt you two have. The Grimm is right, Miss Schade, his order is to kill you tonight. Eric knows about your condition. And he will do everything to bring the Grimm under his control, and kill you. As I've said, you two can split up later. But right now, you have to start together."

"That is ridiculous!" Adalind cried. "You are handing me over to my murderer willingly!"

"I'm not going to kill you – not right now!" Nick told her. "I wish I could, after all the havoc you caused in my life. But right now my priority is to flee. But maybe I will change my mind about one or two things now ..."

The stranger stared at Nick for a moment. "You are not that kind of Grimm," he finally sighed, visibly relieved.

"I'm not going with you!" Adalind repeated, arms folded in front of her and giving Nick a hateful stare.

"I fear you don't have another choice if you are to survive this," the stranger insisted. "So what now? Are you sure?"

Nick glanced at her. His arms were folded in front of him as well.

This friend of Christian's was right. Time was running out for her, she had to go now, not next month.

"Are you in?" Nick wanted to know.

And Adalind really had to grit her teeth before she answered. "For now. Only for now. The moment we leave Vienna, it's over!"

"That fine with me," Nick shrugged, glancing over to Dirk.

The stranger sighed. "Okay, then," he started to explain, "let us go through the plan."

_________________________________________________________________

Nick couldn't believe it! He really couldn't. While the music set in and the curtain opened he stood there, near the balustrade as Eric had ordered him, staring at Adalind. Anger was boiling inside him, leaving him with his hands curled into fists. He couldn't take an eye from his blond nemesis.

First she tried to kill Aunt Marie, then she forced Nick into killing the Mellifer-queen, only to later put Hank under a spell, which also inflicted Wu. And finally Adalind poisoned her cat, which scratched Juliette, first putting her into a coma, letting her forget about him and let her finally fall for Renard in the most dangerous way he could think of. And Nick was sure he missed a lot details on this last one – and was good with that he most likely would never find out.

He didn't listen to the music, he didn't care about what was going on on stage. He only stared at Adalind's profile, feeling his emotions slowly boiling higher and higher.

For a moment he really thought he would be able to kill her. For all the harm she brought into his life. Heck, after he found Hank in that deadly sleep in her bed, he was more than ready to kill her off. That he would instead destroy the Wesen inside her, leaving her human body untouched, he never expected. How could he? He hadn't possessed any information about Hexenbiests back then, not more than what he had already found in the old books, and the single chapter Rosalee had shown to him that night. After he came back and told her and Monroe that Adalind, the human, was still alive, they started researching Hexenbiests, but they never found out much. Rosalee said to him months later that she probably had found a remark that Hexenbiests could restore themselves, but that was all.

Adalind was human now, he could sense it. But there was something else coming from her. The baby that grew inside her? Maybe, he thought. But he wasn't sure. Maybe Adalind tried to restore her Wesen, he couldn't tell.

Suddenly she moved from one side to the other, before standing up and whispering something into Eric's ear. Nick's superhearing didn't kick in fast enough, but a look down at the stage told him that the moment of their flight had approached. The soprano stood in the middle of the stage and just started to sing. It should be the last solo before the first act was over.

Nick took a deep breath, watching how Adalind turned around, ignoring him completely, and left the loge.

Eric gazed up to Nick, didn't say a word. Nick nodded and turned to the door.

Outside the loge he found Franz standing, obviously surveilling the hallway. Nick gave the huge Grimm a stare before he followed Adalind, who had just turned around a corner when he left. Franz nodded with a grin.

"Good luck, Shorty!"

Nick gritted his teeth and walked down the hallway. Two strangers were standing and chatting around the corner, giving him a brief glance before they continued.

Nick took a deep breath. He heard his blood rushing in his ears once more as he followed Adalind down the stairs to the main floor. Then, leaving the bar behind, where servants just were finishing the refreshment preparations, he tailed her into a very small hallway to the restrooms. Adalind skipped the women's bathroom and continued to another, smaller door which lead them behind the stage. Nick followed, jogged the last few metres before the door could close on its own and found himself in near darkness. Only a small, green light was shimmering above another door, which had just opened.

Dirk waved them on. "Quick, quick!" He led them through another hallway, which was bare of every decoration except a pin board filled with lists and instructions, to the dressing rooms, where he followed them into one.

A woman was awaiting them there. Looking at Adalind and Nick, she dived into a closet and gave them a change of clothes. Nick looked at his: jeans and a black shirt, just as he would wear every day in Portland.

"They should fit. I need your sizes of shoes," the woman said.

Nick nodded and told her. Dirk showed him where to change. "Quick!" he ordered again. "The solo only lasts eight minutes."

"I'm not wearing this!" Adalind said. A pair of jeans and a shirt, just some sizes smaller than Nick's.

Nick got the money and the passport out of the shoes he was wearing, slipped out of the jacket and loosened the tie with a relieved sigh. It was a waste to get rid of the suit, he had to admit, but it would draw too much attention to them if he wandered out still wearing it.

"We don't have much normal clothing," the woman told Adalind. "You have to wear what I gave to you. I'm sorry."

"I'm not wearing these!" Adalind repeated and changed into German.

Nick lifted his eyebrows, impressed. She could speak very well and pronounced the words like he'd heard from the most people here. Perhaps a talent for foreign languages?

Slipping into the jeans, he realized they didn't fit too well. As fast as he could he got the belt from the trousers and threaded it to the jeans. Dirk put some shoes in front of him as Nick closed the belt.

The jeans were bigger than what he was used to. But for now they would work. Nick put on the shirt, which fitted perfectly, storing money, passport, map, cellphone and the key in the jeans before he finally put on the shoes. Good hiking boots, nearly new as far as he could tell.

Dirk pointed at a bag that was hanging from the mirror Nick was changing behind. "That is from Christian. He said you'd probably want it back," he said, before he turned again at Adalind and continued to discuss with her.

Nick took the bag and opened it. His eyes widened after he found his windbreaker in it. Smelling fresh, it had surely been washed. Nick got the jacket out of the bag and felt once more his eyes burning a bit.

Something from home. Something that was his property.

He was sure Christian had to give the jacket back to him for a purpose. Most likely to return a little bit of himself.

Nick put on the jacket, shivering but with a smile on his face.

Finally Dirk and the woman had talked Adalind into changing her clothes, but she did it slowly and with a comment on everything she was doing.

Nick checked the time.

Eight minutes, and five of them were gone.

How long it would take Eric to notice that he hadn't returned to the loge? He would probably give him a little credit because he was supposed to kill Adalind and do it in a way that her body wouldn't be discovered right away. But time was running short.

Nick was getting nervous. How long did they have?

When the door slammed open to let Franz enter Nick knew they had been too slow ...

___________________________________________________________

Christian wrapped work up for the day after filling out all the paperwork Eric had asked him for.

His heart was beating fast and he felt the rush of adrenaline in his veins looking at the clock.

Now it was time. Now it had started.

He could only hope everything would go well and Nick and Adalind were on their way out of country. Otherwise he couldn't think of what would happen to both of them. Adalind was highly vulnerable as a human without protection. And Nick? God only knew what Eric would do to him if he realized that his new security guard had only pretended to.

Christian rubbed his injured shoulder and went to the kitchen, not expecting to find anybody there. It was late. There was no dinner served tonight because Eric wanted to get out for a late meal after the opera. So the kitchen staff had left early.

To his surprise the lights were on and he heard someone rummaging after he entered the huge kitchen.

Christian frowned and looked around, not really knowing what to expect.

And then he saw it! The door to the small freezer stood wide open, foggy waves of cold air floating into the warm kitchen.

His mouth hung open for a moment.

The mysterious freezer! He'd wanted to find out what Pierre the Zauberbiest had stored in there for weeks!

Now he had a chance to.

Christian ignored the thumping pain in his back and huddled behind the large kitchen tables, trying to get closer to the freezer.

A mumbling told him he wasn't alone here. And a moment later he saw Pierre coming out of the freezer, something in his hand he couldn't make out.

"Get rid of her," the Zauberbiest mumbled to the air. "Don't leave any evidence behind. Yeah, your highness. But I won't do it without getting a little supplies."

Christian frowned again.

Getting rid of whom?

He gazed around a corner, trying to catch a glimpse into the freezer, but couldn't. The icy fog coming from the opened door hid everything that was inside.

"My recipe finally did work," Pierre was still saying to himself. "I could have told them about the mush. But are those idiots listening to what I have to say? I'm only the potion-maker, it's not up to me to decide. But finally it worked!"

Christian bit his lip.

Nick had told him about the mush that the Severins had tried to feed to him. So he was right about it not being only food. But what else could it have been? What was Pierre talking about?

Again Christian peered around the table, watching the Zauberbiest standing there, both hands on the table, head bowed, eyes moving. Reading.

Christian ducked down again, thinking.

He didn't know what exactly happened to Nick before he found him. What Nick had told him gave him the impression that Eric had first tried to put him under a spell. If that was still the plan after Nick gave in, he couldn't tell. The Severins never were seen again in the kitchen to bully someone, and Pierre had suddenly disappeared too. So his guess was that Eric stopped whatever he had planned in the first place. But there still was evidence regarding what he had tried to do.

Pierre was reading a book, grunting about getting rid of something he definitely thought as something rare, and obviously disobeying Eric's orders to get something he wasn't supposed to. The freezer was open!

Christian rubbed his shoulder again.

This was going to be a painful end of his day ...

He crawled to another working station where he'd seen a block with knifes before, and raised carefully to get one before he returned to the corner where he was before. Once more he thought his idea through, but couldn't see another way.

This was the end of his career as a spy, he realized. What he was about to do would terminate his job as private secretary for Eric. The time was already running out after all, with what he'd done during the past weeks, especially after he took the key from the safe. But this would verify he was a traitor. He would have to leave immediately.

Christian had thought he would feel sad but he didn't. He was relieved it was over. He was looking forward to what would be coming up for him now. But first he had a job to finish.

He took another deep breath and raised again, trying to prepare himself for what he was about to do.

"Busy?" he asked, hobbling around the table in Pierre's direction.

The Zauberbiest looked up, staring at him for a moment before he smirked. "What do you want, Maushertz?" he asked, turning away. "Time for your little warm milk, huh? It's best known all over the castle."

"No. Time for some answers," Christian said. "What did you do to Nick Burkhardt?"

Pierre turned around again, and this time he noticed the knife in Christian's hand. Stepping backwards, he woged into his Wesen form.

"Get back, you little traitor! What do you think you are? You are nothing!"

A cold smile lifted the corners of Christian's mouth. "You never understood how the Royal part of a bastard works, right?"

Woging back into a human Pierre stared at him, astonished. "You are not going to kill me. I'm a servant of the prince!"

"Well, I'm a servant of a prince too. Unfortunately my loyalty lies somewhere else." Christian jumped forward, ignoring the pain rushing through his body.

Pierre tried to distract him by throwing his book at him, and after that a salt shaker, but Christian ignored the attempts.

"Don't! Don't!" the Zauberbiest yelled. "Anybody! Murder! Help me!"

Christian approached to him. There was no struggle of any kind. Pierre didn't have time to try to protect himself. The knife was sharp and cut through his flesh, penetrating deep into his body.

The Maushertz was surprised how easy it was, looking into Pierre's eyes while the life left them and the Wesen collapsed slowly forwards, into the knife. One step and Pierre fell to the ground, dead.

Christian took another breath, staring down at the body, before he turned around, just the moment the spirit awoke to leave the dead body it formerly possessed. He heard hateful hissing, claw-like hands trying to catch and scratch him. Christian stepped back. His feet crushed something and he remembered Pierre's lame attempts to protect himself.

Christian, still not shocked about what he'd just done, looked down to the ground. But this time he was terrified after he saw a smashed, separated finger he had just stepped on. A human finger, frozen solid.

Gasping, he looked up, into the open freezer. Still the clouds of icy air from the inside concealed part of what was inside. But from here Christian could finally see what it was, and his face went ashen while he fought down the panic.

He had to go. Now! He had to leave Austria! He had to tell Sean!

With shaking hands he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and took some blurry pictures of the opened freezer's contents. Then he turned around, again ignoring the pain in his injured body.

Pierre's book was lying on the ground not far away from a filled freezer bag.

Christian ignored the bag. Groaning, he leaned forward, got the book and, with a last look over his shoulder, he started into a wobbling run.

________________________________________________________________

Nick was seeing red. The moment he saw Franz storming into the room, saw the woman and Dirk again wogeing in panic and Adalind screaming in shock, all the memories from the past few weeks came back to him.

Franz, ready to punish him right after he woke up. Franz, torturing Klaus to death. Franz, grinning vicious while tormenting him.

Anger took over, together with the realization that this time Nick wasn't weak, injured, poisoned or handcuffed anymore.

"You little bloodtraitor!" roared Franz. His hand was diving into his jacket. "You will pay for this. Even thinking about perfidy brings you back to the torture chamber, Shorty!"

With a deep roar Nick jumped forward, throwing himself against the much taller and much heavier Grimm before he could draw his gun. Franz staggered backwards, hand flailing out to catch his balance.

And Nick's instincts kicked in.

This was no kinsman, this was a villain. This was someone he had to fight to get out of here, to get back to Portland and be a father. This was the enemy he had been waiting to get his hands on for so long now.

He jumped upwards, preparing himself, and hit Franz' chin with his own skull. Again the much taller man stumbled backwards and Nick realized that although Franz was taller, heavier and stronger than he was, he himself was faster and more agile.

With a growl he climbed up to Franz' shoulders, hooking his left arm around the bulky neck. Franz shook himself, trying to grab Nick's arm. Stepping sideways he tried to pin Nick between the wall and his body, but again Nick was faster. Diving underneath the straightened arm he left a personal note by punching Franz' kidney as hard as he could.

The hit had an impact. Franz yelled in pain.

Nick tried another hit and slammed the other Grimm hard in the guts before he got back to his feet.

"Adalind, get ready!" he ordered firmly over his shoulder.

Franz, visibly stricken by the sudden attack of his former victim, holding his stomach and feeling blood on his chin, stared at Nick, cold blooded. "You really think you will get away with this?" he asked and grinned. "Oh, I will enjoy having you back in the chamber, you little bastard! You won't be handsome after I'm done with you, believe me."

"First you have to get me," Nick answered. "And this time, I'm not weak or ill. And this time, it's just the two of us." With that, he lunged, but, spinning on his toes in the very last second, he dived underneath Franz' fist to find himself behind his enemy once more. His elbow slamming into the other kidney, he almost brought Franz to his knees. Then, finally, Franz scored a mark – kicking backwards, he hit Nick's leg hard and knocked him off balance. This time Nick was sent staggering backwards, and Franz was coming for him.

The impact pushed the air out of Nick's lungs, but he was prepared for this. Blocking another hit with his arms he retreated, feeling cloth against his back. A curtain. And in reach there was a rope. Nick seized it, using the power of the next hit by Franz to swing with the rope. Behind the other Grimm, he kicked, still on the rope, with both feet and sent Franz stumbling behind the curtain. Nick let the rope slip through his fingers. He jumped behind the curtain himself, finding Franz there, hand again under his jacket. Nick's fingers closed around the arm. Jerking and pushing to get the gun himself, he didn't recognize where they were.

Bright lights from one side, behind them whispering darkness. Nick didn't spend a second look. Instead he stomped hard on Franz' foot, followed by another, but only half as heavy, push with his elbow again.

Franz grunted, still trying to get his gun out of the holster and free his arm. He was only partly successful with drawing the gun.

An audible yelp from behind the bright lights surprised both for a second, and they realized they had ended up on stage. The soprane, stopping before the end of her solo and staring at them in blank horror, woged into a Fuchsbau.

After the second of realization, the pulling and jerking started again. Franz was a little faster recovering this time, but Nick's fingers didn't let him go. Franz tried to lift the gun, to free his arm with lifting it, but Nick jerked him back. Wrapping his legs around Franz hips he was ready for the final round, getting the gun and out of there.

Screams from the darkness behind the bright lights.

Franz snarled, staring down at Nick.

"You little traitor will so pay for this!"

A cold grin grew on Nick's lips but he didn't answer.

Franz tried to turn the gun in his hand, to point the barrel at Nick. Nick's fingers let his arm go, and instead closed around Franz' holding the gun.

And then there was one single scream: "NO!" Franz was distracted long enough for Nick to wrest the gun from the hand. Flipping backwards, he came back to his feet again. Franz, confused but in full rage, turned to him and started to come at him.

Nick didn't aim. He simply pulled the trigger. And Franz was suddenly staggering back. With his eyes wide in surprise he collapsed to his knees before sinking slowly to one side. Dead.

Nick breathed heavily, slowly stepping closer, the gun still pointed at the other Grimm to make sure he was dead. The Fuchsbau-soprane finally flew from stage, screams and yelling from the auditorium while the audience and orchestra abandoned the theater in panic.

Nick looked up to the left, into the darkness behind the limelights. And for a second he could have sworn he saw Eric's eyes returning his look before the curtain sank down and separated Nick from the hall on the other side.

Dirk ran up to him, panting and woging in panic. "You have to go, NOW!" he yelled to Nick, who was still staring at the point where, on the other side of the curtains, Eric's loge was.

Finally he took a last deep breath and nodded. Turning around his eyes met with Dirk's. "Adalind's ready?"

The otter-like Wesen nodded. "But I fear your fight drew too much attention to the building," he said, following Nick off the stage. "There are Hundjaegers everywhere outside."

Eric had acted fast, but that wasn't a surprise to Nick. He nodded and pushed the gun between the belt and the pants in his back. "We will make it. Don't worry," he said.

Adalind was awaiting him in the hallway.

"We will," Dirk said. "Follow me. We cannot use the stage door right now. There's another, older entrance that's not used anymore."

Adalind was surprisingly quiet now. Nick took her by her arm, and she didn't fight him or the touch. She only looked up to him, astonished and impressed.

Dirk led them through a labyrinth of different passages and small corridors to a rusty old door, secured with a huge padlock, which he opened.

"Listen," Dirk warned them. "As long as you are in the city you must be twice as careful. The little time we had hoped to get you out of here is gone, and the Royals will start a manhunt to get you two." He took a little sheet of paper out of his pocket and gave it to Nick. "These are the names and numbers of some members of the resistance. No one anybody would expect to be part of us. So, be extremely careful with the list."

"We will," Nick nodded and put the paper in his pocket. "Keep your heads down for the near future. Hopefully you will make it, Dirk. And my best wishes to Christian for all his help."

Dirk nodded.

"Thanks," came from Adalind, that was all.

Nick was relieved she didn't start another argument and simply followed him into the dark and dirty room. Obviously an old coal cellar.

Dirk closed the door behind them, leaving them in pitch darkness.

"Wait a second," Adalind whispered. Nick heard her rummaging in her bag. Then a bright finger of light illuminated the room, revealing filth and cobwebs. On the other end he could see a metal ladder, as rusty as the door.

"Move! We have to hurry," Nick ordered and let Adalind take the lead.

"How do we know the door isn't sealed?" she asked over her shoulder.

"We don't," Nick answered. "But I still have bullets in the gun. If it's sealed, we can open it this way or another."

Another shot would bring the Hundjaegers directly to them, and he knew that. But they had to move quickly. With one thing Dirk was right: Eric would send an army to get Nick back. And heavens only knew what he wanted to do with Adalind and her baby.

The ladder was rusty but in good shape. Nick, who regained the lead now, found the door unlocked and was sure it was one of the members of the ensemble who had just opened it. After he left the cellar, Nick found himself in a dark side alley behind the Erstes Haus am Platz. He helped Adalind up before closing the door and pushing the lock closed, in hopes of distracting their followers a little bit.

"Do you know the car?" he asked.

"A VW Polo, Dirk told me." Again rummaging in her bag Adalind pulled out the key.

Nick nodded and took the lead again, careful this time, checking around every corner and listening to his instincts in the effort of getting an early warning.

Blinking lights came from the main street along with a lot of voices. Yelling and the sound of many footsteps.

This didn't sound good ...

Nick gave Adalind a sign and, his back to the wall, drew slowly closer to the main entrance. Looking around the corner, his heart sank. The whole area was flooded with Hundjaegers or men and women he had the strong impression of being Hundjaegers, and maybe other Wesen working for Eric. As far as he could see all the streets leading the opera building were blocked with cars and more men and women in dark suits, obviously wearing guns.

Gritting his teeth, Nick sneaked back to Adalind. There he saw it: the entrance to a subway station!

"What's the matter?" Adalind asked.

Nick shook his head. "There's no way we are getting anywhere near the car. And even if we could, we would never get half a block," he answered. Tilting his head, he looked at her. "Have you ever used the subway here? Do you know the schedules?"

Adalind shook her head. "No, why?"

Nick took a breath.

It was risky; they would have to cross a short distance of open ground. If one or more of those Hundjaegers saw them and put one and one together ... if the subway was closed for the night or they had to wait long for the next train, they would be screwed.

But they would definitely be screwed waiting here until the searchers found them. They didn't have any other choice.

Nick bit his lips and looked down in Adalind's face. "I know you don't trust me, I don't trust you either. But right now we need each other. Will you follow me until we have left Vienna?"

Adalind stared at him, her face in the shadows. He could only see the white shimmer from her eyes. Then she nodded.

"Okay, come with me, no questions, no arguments. We have to move quickly."

"I know," she said.

Nick once more took the lead, Adalind on his heels. Pretending not to be involved or even interested what was going on at the opera house, he stepped out in the streetlight, walking straight to the entrance of the subway station. He only hoped they would get a train down there, and that the forces Eric had sent after them to bring them back to him hadn't thought of controlling the station.

Once on the stairs Nick sped up, Adalind still close behind him. No one seemed to notice them, but they still were in too close in range to feel safe again.

Nick expected a huge underground station like he knew from the big cities in the States. Instead he found a small stop, the walls tiled and decorated with grafiti. Light boxes with posters and a time-schedule. A cash-automat for the tickets.

Nick looked around. There was another entrance down here, with a restroom sign and an arrow pointing in a direction.

Adalind stepped up to the schedule when Nick heard a distant shriek of train breaks, augmented by the cave-like structure of the subway.

He turned around, seeing blinking signs in one of the two tunnels.

So, the last train wasn't so far off, he realized with another relieved sigh.

"It's the last one," Adalind told him. "Should be driving up to the Zentralfriedhof." She looked over her shoulder. "To the graveyard."

Nick's eyebrows lifted. "Sounds like a tour we should make."

Headlights grew quickly in the darkness of the opposite tunnel.

Nick relaxed a little, still being on guard but not on the high alert.

The train drove into the station, the breaks shrieking, drowning every other noise.

But then he heard the scream. Spinning around he saw two morphed Hundjaegers on the stairs, their weapons pointing at them.

"In the train, move!" Nick ordered, pulling Franz' gun out of his belt.

The train stopped, the doors opened painfully slow.

Nick aimed at the Hundjaegers but hesitated to fire. Down here the sound might deafen him. And maybe he didn't have to kill the Wesen, no matter for whom they were working. They weren't his enemies, not as long as they didn't attack.

"Stop!" one of them yelled.

Adalind ran into the train, Nick followed her slowly, aiming still at the Hundjaegers. "Don't do that!" he ordered, shaking his head. "Don't even think about it." From the corner of his eye he noticed a surveillance camera at the ceiling of the station. And suddenly he felt safe. He knew they wouldn't shoot at him, not with a camera viewing the whole scene. Beside the fact that Eric surely wanted him back alive.

Nick entered the train, and when the doors closed right behind him, the train started again.

Another relieved sigh and finally a little smile grew on his lips.

"We did it!"

______________________________________________________________________

Eric couldn't believe what he had just witnessed. True, he had suspected Nick would try to flee. Also true, the Severin cousins had done a lot of harm, especially Franz. But this ... this mess? And what the heck happened to Adalind? Nick WAS really pissed to see her, he'd noticed that. And he didn't hesitate to follow her as the order was given to him.

"Your highness, they are gone," a voice told him.

Eric realized that he was still staring at the curtain. The curtain that had fallen after Nick shot Franz and was just aiming at him!

The news slowly sank in.

They? Did that mean ... ?

Eric turned around. "Who's they?" he demanded to know.

Schmidt-Hartung, the Hundjaeger in charge of tonight's security, bowed. "The Grimm and the woman, Adalind Schade, your highness. They flew together."

Eric's lips thinned.

No way Nick or Adalind could have made this up tonight! No way this disaster could have happened without a proper plan. No way they would work together without being persuaded into it!

Who? Who was the traitor that stole his Grimm? Who had planned this? Who had brought Nick and Adalind together and made them work as a team as they surely had done?

"I thought you had closed all entrances to the place after I arrived?" Eric said, calmly and coldly.

Schmidt-Hartung swallowed and kept his head down. "We did. But ... I fear I didn't put the subway into the surveillance."

The subway? They simply took a train out of here?

Heavy footsteps approached from the hallway, then Hans entered the loge, making his way without taking notice of anybody in this way. His hands were bloody and shaking. "He killed him!" he cried. "That little piece of shit killed my cousin!"

Eric, as agitated as he felt, still kept his stony and calm face. His brain was rushing through all possibilities.

"He killed him!" yelled Hans at him.

Eric looked at the remaining Grimm. "I saw that first hand. If the curtain didn't came down he probably would have shot at me too."

A hissing from all attendant Hungjaegers and Koenigsschlangen.

Hans' lips were trembling. "I demand my right to take revenge," he said, trying to keep his voice calm too.

"Denied!" Eric turned again to Schmidt-Hartung. "Find out where they went and search the whole city! I want the Grimm back, alive and unharmed if possible. But alive for sure!"

"As you wish," Schmidt-Hartung bowed again.

"That little bastard killed my cousin! You cannot deny my right!" Hans bellowed.

Eric turned back to him, staring him down. "You are doing what I order! Nick Burkhardt will be caught again, and he will be punished for what he did tonight! But he is too valuable to be killed only for a little bloodthirst. Do you hear me?" he said.

Hans' lips thinned, his face ashen.

"Do you hear me?" Eric repeated.

Trembling and reluctant Hans bowed his head. "Yes, your highness."

"Your family will get compensation for your loss," Eric continued. "And you have my word, Nick Burkhardt won't come out of this unharmed. But we need him alive!" He stepped closer to the huge Grimm. "He's a fullblood. I don't think I have to tell you how rare they are, do I?"

His cellphone began to buzz inside his trousers.

"You can help this incapable idiot of a Hundjaeger and lead the search party," Eric said, pulling the phone out of the pocket.

Hans bowed down again before leaving him.

Eric turned around, again looking down at the closed curtain, accepting the call. "Yes?"

"I hope you got my reminder, son," a husky voice said. "I will be with you in a few days."

Eric's fingers clawed into the woodwork of the balustrade so hard that his fingers went white. "Of course, Father," he answered.

"Then we will have to talk. About you and your relationship to your brother." The call ended, and for the second time within twenty-four hours Eric felt the urgent need to throw his cellphone against the wall ...


	9. Meet the Relative

A/N: And again a HUGE THANKS! to Merlyn Pyndragon for her work on this fanfic. And another HUGE THANKS! to all you readers. This wouldn't be possible without you guys :)

 

A continuous knocking at his door woke Wu up. Checking the alarm clock on his night stand, he then rolled flat on his back, moaning. 6:30 am? Really?

He felt like he had just collapsed on his bed, and in thinking about it, he actually JUST collapsed on his bed an hour ago after a night of surveillance.

The knocking continued, leaving the impression on Wu that there was maybe a man-sized woodpecker in the hallway, trying to hammer a hole into his apartment.

Wait a minute! Man-sized birds?

Wu sighed after he realized that his own thought woke him better up than the knocker at the door.

Yeah, Wesen! Grimm! Royal! All the stuff they've told him at this weird Spice Shop down in the Pearl. And this woman he vaguely remembered as the relative of a victim in a robbery gone bad, with the reddened eyes and full of rage, throwing an armchair at him after she woke up.

Wu rubbed his face, again moaning, and finally sat up.

Now that he was awake, he wouldn't find the rest he needed. Not now. With a little luck it would be a quiet day at the precinct and he could "examine" the holding cells while Lenny was out for lunch break.

Throwing on his bathrobe he left his tiny bedroom and stopped at the door, taking a look through the peek hole. He sighed again.

"Really? Man, it's six-thirty!" he said through the locked door.

"I thought that was the usual time for getting up for you guys," came the answer. "Got up early today, you know? Couldn't sleep."

Wu took a deep breath. "What do you want?" he asked then.

"Give you another lesson in ... well, you know in what."

Wu shook his head in disbelief.

"Look, I got you some breakfast. How about a donut?"

And suddenly the misty morning seemed to clear.

Wu unlocked the several locks and opened the door. "Why didn't you say that in the first place?" he asked, peeking up at his unsuspected guest. "Cream filled?"

Monroe nodded and presented a paper box with the logo of a local bakery. "As I've said, I was up early. Farmer's market and stopped by this bakery. They had this special offer and I thought it was funny."

Wu let his guest in, suddenly feeling hungry. "Never heard of them," he told Monroe, looking at the logo.

"Really?" Monroe entered the apartment and looked around. "Hm, I see you repaired the door. Sorry about that, by the way. Don't know if Nick ever told you that he ... well, that was back then when your favourite foods were paperclips and furniture. How's your couch, by the way?" He glanced over to the sofa underneath the framed posters of two of Wu's favourite classic movies.

"Got a new one. Half the filling was missing from the old one," Wu answered, frowning. "Wait a minute. You were here?"

Monroe placed the box on the round table at Wu's dining section and nodded. "Rosi, Nick and I. Rosalee gave you a cure for your unhealthy appetite. Tried the same with Hank, who was affected too, but Adalind already had altered her spell. So, all Nick could do was kill her."

It WAS too early, Wu decided. Had he just heard Monroe telling him Nick killed that lawyer and later suspect in the murder of her own mother?

"Adalind? As in Adalind Schade?" he asked, confused.

"The same." Monroe nodded and pulled a second bag out of his pocket. "Brought coffee too. I didn't know if you have any. It was always a topic between Nick and me while we were roomies, you know?"

Wu blinked with his mouth open.

Monroe smiled. "Where's the brewer?"

Wu pointed at the door behind Monroe. The Blutbad turned and left the living room. Wu could hear him rummaging in his tiny kitchen.

"I have coffee," he finally said, remembering that he didn't have a coffee grinder.

"I see," came the answer.

Wu moved over to the table and looked at the box, suddenly wondering what Monroe found so funny about it.

"I usually like my coffee to brew itself," the Blutbad returned to the livingroom. The coffeemaker in the kitchen bobbled and boiled.

Wu investigated the outside of the box. "Why did you think this would be funny?"

"The name, man," Monroe pointed at the box. "Those donuts are called 'Dirty Wu'. I thought you might be the inspiration."

Wu blinked, thinking he probably had mistaken something. "Excuse me, what?"

Monroe opened the box, revealing a bunch of mini-donuts. "They are called 'Dirty Wu'. Or 'Dirty Wus' in the plural I guess. You never been to Pip's Original?"

Wu shook his head. "Well, I'm not the only Wu in Portland. Ever checked the yellow pages?" he looked up and took one of the donuts.

But true, it was weird. Maybe he should pay a visit to this bakery, he thought, to find out why they named their goods after living persons. Taking a bite off the pastry, he corrected the maybe to a "he HAD to go there!"

"And?" Monroe asked.

Wu was busy chewing but nodded enthusiastically.

My, this little donut was good!

Monroe stood there for another moment, before he moved one of the chairs and sat down. Looking up to Wu, he sighed. "I'm worried for Rosalee and Juliette," he confessed. "Sorry, man, if I woke you up. I thought I would go to the farmer's market early to distract myself but ..."

Wu swallowed the remnants of the donut and nodded. "Didn't work out the way it should, huh?" he asked and took a seat opposite to Monroe. "Been there myself. So, don't worry about waking me up. I can maybe manage to get a nap at the precinct later. Not a problem."

Monroe smiled humorlessly. "Love does weird things to you, doesn't it?" he said.

Wu smiled dryly. "It breaks your heart and puts it together the wrong way every day," he nodded.

Monroe sighed.

Wu looked at his unexpected guest for a moment. Seeing him in this depression made him sad too. Thinking about it, he finally decided to try to light the day up for Monroe. "Hey, may I ask you something?"

The Blutbad nodded. "Of course. That's the deeper thought about all of this," he answered.

Wu smiled. "Are there woodpecker-like Wesen out there too? Thought about it when I woke up."

Monroe blinked. "There are," he finally said.

Wu raised his eyebrows in an awe. "Really? Like a Woody Woodpecker or something?"

And suddenly a deep chuckle emerged from Monroe's throat. "Woody Woodpecker?"

Wu grinned, relieved that he brought a little lightness back into Monroe's day.

"Think about it, man! That would be fun!" Monroe said, starting to laugh he shook his head. "There are woodpecker-like Wesen, yes. They are called Kopfnagler, but they definitely do not have that laugh or a red plume on their heads."

Wu grinned. "Kopfnagler? What does that mean?" he asked.

And Monroe started laughing really hard.

======================================================================

Sean just came home for a change. He had spent the afternoon at the town hall, meeting with a council of representatives around the mayor. Topic was a replacement for the commissioner, as the current one, Hammond, was getting on in age and would retire next year. Usually Sean would have turned this meeting down in the first place, as to make himself more interesting. But with his own cousin in town, not really knowing what Viktor was up to other than poking and provoking him, Sean decided it would be better to get there in the first place.

He knew he was one of the candidates but he didn't know if he wanted the job. Head of a precinct was, especially after Nick's awakening, very satisfying for him. The third precinct had become the lead among the local precincts, including the sheriff's bureau. But as commissioner he would loose the direct contact to the policemen and -women, and, of course, to the local Grimms.

Sean sighed. Grimms as in plural. He hoped Nick would somehow make it back to Portland but so far he hadn't heard anything from Christian. And Juliette? She might hope losing the Grimm after giving birth. There were ways to get rid of those powers, there were ways to put them back into the box after they kicked in, yes. But as long as Nick wasn't around, and with a baby in the coming, Juliette would be better off embracing her Grimm rather than trying to lock it away again.

Had he known this before? Somehow, he had to confess, after they both had fallen for each other as victims of Adalind's fatal spell, Juliette didn't taste like a human. It wasn't what Nick, oh so innocent and happily deep in love with her, had so often told at the precinct. There was more. Sean never really understood; Juliette was somehow different and it hadn't surprised him very much to learn that she was a Grimm too.

Sean shook his head to get rid of those thoughts. The loathing for each other were gone, his at last with his nightmare about Juliette's rapid ageing in his bed. But he felt responsible. If he hadn't overestimated Adalind's ability to get the key, if he hadn't given in to the family to get the key in the first place, none of this would have happened.

But he also would still be alone, a little voice in his heart whispered. He still would be lonely instead of having some connections to the local Wesen community.

This was something he'd never expected. His mother had always warned him about revealing himself. It would be too dangerous and Wesen would fear him. Now some Wesen in Portland knew about him being half Zauberbiest, but only Rosalee and Monroe knew that he also was a Royal, and something had changed. Last night, when he was at a grocery store, an Eisbiber family greeted him, smiling, and the Drangzorn clerk in the late shift told him that he was relieved to have at least one Wesen in charge at the local authorities. It felt different to be in the open after all that time hiding himself, and he was really wondering where all the hate against his kind had gone. But maybe, Sean thought, maybe it was that the same Wesen now greeting and smiling at him, knew him before. Yes, he was part Zauberbiest, and with that not the most likable Wesen. But he had proved what he was capable of, that he could do good, help the community.

What if the same people found out about him being part Royal?

Sean grimaced. Better not to think about it. But it felt surreal that now the part of him he grew up loathing, was now the part of him people were identifying with.

His cellphone rang.

Sean frowned, pulled out of his thoughts so abruptly, and looked at the screen. Starting, he blinked and hesitated a moment before he accepted the call. The burner phone he had at the precinct was not at home. He had to take the call from here.

"I hope you have some good news," he said, leaning his hip against a dresser.

"Sort of," came Christian's answer. "I heard from my friends. The escape worked. Not the way we set it up but it worked."

"So, the Grimm's free?" A relieved sigh came from Sean's lips, starting from the bottom of his heart.

"As far as I know. But I doubt they will be on the booked flight. They weren't able to get to the car. They had to flee on foot."

That was not what Sean had expected. He had sent Christian a lot of money to buy false documents, book the flights and a car with supplies for both.

"So the soon-to-be-mother is with the Grimm?" he asked.

"Yes," Christian answered. "But ..."

Sean frowned again. "What?"

A sigh came from the phone. "I'm burned," Christian told him. "I went too far this time. And I'm really sorry, Sean."

He frowned again. "What do you mean?"

"I'm standing in front of your apartment building," Christian answered. "I cannot go back. Things happened over the past few weeks that made it impossible. At least ... I killed someone last night to get ..." He paused, taking a deep breath. "Sean, I fear we have a problem. From what I've read in the book we have a huge problem. Eric had a Zauberbiest put a spell on the Grimm to be able to control him. And I ... I found what they used. Sean, this is ... I read the book on the flight here and ... We don't have any contact to Nick or Adalind now. But they need to know! Eric poisoned the Grimm, and if ... Sean, I don't know what to do!"

The meeting at the town hall was forgotten.

"Come in, I tell the concierge to let you come up," Sean ordered, his heart pounding hard and fast.

Poisoned? A book? A murder?

Slowly something else sunk into his mind. A name: Adalind!

=====================================================

Juliette had to confess that she never felt more alive than right now, hiking in the deep woods, breathing the smooth air after the last rain. Sunbeams were shimmering here and there through the trees. The rain left a foggy cloud of glittering water drops behind, while the sun baked the trees, ferns and bushes, making the woods steam. The insects, which had bothered her before the rain, were gone now, only their buzzing still audible. Birds were singing, small animals rustling in the old leaves and ferns.

"When I was younger I was drawn to the woods," Rosalee told her.

Juliette slowed down and let the Fuchsbau walk side by side with her. "I grew up in Seattle. Tons of woodland, but it never felt like here," she said.

Rosalee nodded. "I know."

"You lived there before you moved here to take over the shop, right? You told me." Juliette smiled and shifted the weight of her backpack a little.

Rosalee nodded again. "You know, I was in huge trouble for a long time. Always thought my parents were expecting too much from me." She sighed. "My dad wanted me to become a doctor, to take over his practice."

"He was a physician?" Juliette asked.

"Apothecary. He never had the chance for a full study. But he dreamed."

Juliette pulled a face. "Let me guess, you thought you should fulfill his dream but you couldn't."

"Not my way, I fear. Too much pressure."

Juliette nodded, staring down to the ground right before her but more watching herself from the inside.

She'd heard this so often during her own education! She was the first doctor in her family, so she didn't get the pressure from her parents. In fact, she moved out right after high school to college and from there to vet school without letting her parents know about any details. She didn't want the arguments she definitely would have had if she had let them know. Why only a vet when she also could have gone for physician? Why medicine at all, coming from a family with business background?

Rosalee stopped at her side, looking at her. "Everything's okay?" she asked.

Juliette pulled a face. "Just not so good memories, I fear," she answered. "And you were supposed to become a doctor then?"

Rosalee untangled herself from a snag before she answered. "Actually my dad tried and he was lucky to get an international stipendium. He went to Europe back then, registered at the university in Hildesheim," she started to explain. "But there he also got involved with the council. Did you hear of that?"

Juliette nodded. "I read about it in one of Nick's books. Unfortunately most was in German. It's sort of a regulation bureau for Wesen, right?"

"It's more like a government for us. My family always was interested in politics. One of my ancestors served as councilor for one of the Royal families a couple hundred years ago," Rosalee said. Suddenly she looked down, her cheeks becoming pink. "Actually my first boyfriend was the leader of one part of the resistance. He was here some time ago and caused a lot havoc."

Juliette nodded, thoughtful.

She herself didn't have the best taste in old lovers. Maybe better than Nick, who's first girlfriend she had the chance to meet three years ago when they bought the house and moved in together. Nick had still stuff stored at said girlfriend's apartment then, and Juliette drove with him to LA to get it. Not the most pleasant memory, she had to confess.

Rosalee shrugged again. "Anyway, my father was suddenly involved with the council and served for a couple of years. And because he did what he thought had to be done at the time, he lost the money and didn't go back to university after he broke with the council. Instead he came back here and founded the Spice Shop. He already had all the needed papers for doing that." Rosalee sighed. "After my brother Freddie didn't turn out that well, my parents decided to get me interested in medicine. And I was, but I underestimated the pressure of the education. First it only was to keep me awake to learn, later to calm down and get some rest."

Juliette closed her eyes for a moment.

This story she had heard so often! And she'd seen it during her own education. Medicine, no matter if human or animal, was pretty hard to learn, and the pressure the students had to go through during their education caused more than one breakdown at a time. So many of her fellow students felt at one point simply the need for drugs. While Juliette herself worked with the pressure, she could understand why others couldn't stand it.

"So you became addicted?" she asked. "I'm sorry to hear that!"

Rosalee smiled a sad smile. "Yeah, I was. And I had to fall down pretty hard before I got to my feet again I fear. That's why I left Portland and went to Seattle. I was with people not good for me back then. And trying Jay then ..."

"Jay?" Juliette frowned. "What's that?"

"For humans it's a very mild sedative, for Wesen it's highly addictive. As I've said, not the best time of my life."

"But now you are sober, and you have a supporting system with Monroe, Nick and me." Juliette took the hand of the other woman and smiled. "I am so proud to call you friend! And, does it really matter to become a physician? You are helping others the best way you can."

Rosalee smiled a little. "I'm sorry," she said. "Sorry for letting you down, for leaving you after Nick was gone. I didn't mean to."

Juliette nodded. "I know. I think we all were in a shock and I understand why you did it." She smiled sadly and looked ahead. "We should move on. It isn't too far now."

Rosalee hooked her fingers behind the straps of her backpack. "Why so deep in the woods and so far away from every road? There's not even a path out here," she wanted to know.

"There's a stream close by, I think that's the reason." Juliette explained. "And there is a path to the next parking spot. I didn't want to go that way because ... Well, after all we heard I think it's very likely that the path is booby trapped."

"Your uncle is pretty spooked then, huh?" Rosalee followed Juliette's lead now, walking close behind her.

"I would say so. And we don't know what to expect from the girl Jim talked about," Juliette continued.

Actually she felt a little jealous. Maybe the little girl Juliette had inside her still wished herself at Norman's side to brave all challenges and face any adventure. To learn now that he was living with a girl he'd picked up at Jim's ... she didn't know what to think about this.

For a little while they walked in silence, listening to the natural noises of the deep woods: birds singing, wind rustling on leaves and branches, little animals hushing and the buzzing of insects. Here and there they still could hear water dropping from the last rain. The sun high above them was beaming down and heating the dark woods, so the women opened their windbreakers a short time later after the clear air became clumsy and muggy again. Surely it would start to rain not too much later.

Juliette listened for the sound of the stream she remembered from her visits here. There were some rapids and a little creek with lots of trouts. When she was a kid and her father went here for fishing,the best time was when he made fresh smoked trout for dinner.

"How are the wedding plans going?" Juliette broke the silence a while later.

"We are not that deep into it. Monroe made his proposal, I agreed and we called our relatives. Monroe's parents aren't that thrilled to get a Fuchsbau as daughter-in-law."

"That's sad," Juliette commented.

"Well, my sister isn't that thrilled either. Blutbaden and Fuchsbaus aren't supposed to be best buddies, not to mention married."

A rustling in one of the bushes nearby made Juliette move her head, trying to make out what was there.

Rosalee sniffed and took a step back. "I think we are near now," she said.

And in the next moment someone jumped out of the bush and at the Fuchsbau, tackling her to the ground. A female voice roared, and Juliette jumped to help her friend, gripping a high raised arm with a long knife before she could even make out who was attacking Rosalee.

Another rustling and she saw a man jumping out of another bush, coming for her.

"Rosalee?" Juliette cried before she was pulled aside.

A thump of someone getting hit. Juliette wrestled with the man and finally managed to face him. Staring in light blue eyes, so much like her own, she realized who was holding her.

"Get off me! Let me go!" she screamed.

The other attacker and Rosalee fought. The Fuchsbau somehow managed to roll, so her attacker was now underneath her. That didn't necessarily mean Rosalee was in a better position now.

"Get the knife! Kill her!" the man, still holding Juliette, ordered.

That was enough! Juliette kicked him hard and wrestled herself free before jumping to Rosalee's side. Pulling her friend back she got herself between Rosalee and a girl or young woman with black hair, still holding the knife.

"Are you insane?" Juliette cried, shielding Rosalee with her own body. "Uncle Norman, stop her before someone gets hurt!"

And the man with the light blue eyes came to his feet again, still protecting his injured part. "Teresa and I are here to save your life, Julie! Get away from that beast! She's dangerous!"

Juliette breathed hard, still shielding Rosalee. She felt her friend wogeing and shook her head. "Rosalee is a Fuchsbau, yes, but she's my friend and came with me to help!" she said hard, trying to keep an eye on both of them. "Attacking her is attacking me, Uncle Norman!"

The girl looked at him.

And Norman stared at Juliette with disgusted surprise. "You are friends with them? You are ... You are one of us!"


	10. The Recipe for a Disaster

A/N: And again, thanks you guys for all the favs and follows. You guys rock! And someone else is still rockin' as well: So many thanks again to Merlyn Pyndragon. Without her, I am pretty sure, this fanfic wouldn't be possible!

 

He felt stiff and sour after he awoke, finding himself curled up on a marble bench. Birds were singing, a light breeze rustling the leaves, making them whisper. And someone very human was rummaging in something.

Nick sat up with a deep sigh, rubbing his eyes and blinking into the blue sky, which was decorated with puffy white clouds.

"Morning," he mumbled, looking around and trying to put the previous events together cohesively:

The opera, the fight, their flight through the old coal cellar, the subway and the Hundjaeger too late to catch them.

He remembered them getting off the train somewhere in the dark, them running down a street and straight after a black carriage, through a metal door before it could close on them before leaving an alley in search of a hideout and a place for the night.

Well, they had found something, Nick had to confess, looking around.

The place where he had awoken was sort of a little round sitting area with three benches like the one he had slept on. The place was paved with white stones, in the middle a flare which reminded him a bit of the eternal flare at the grave of John F. Kennedy.

Adalind was sitting on the bench opposite to his, rummaging in her bag. Now she looked over her shoulder and nodded. "You dreamed."

Nick snuffled and shrugged. "Happens to the best of us," he answered.

Still he wasn't too thrilled about his companion. Adalind was dangerous, that was the first rule he'd learned dealing with her. With or without her Hexenbiest, she was dangerous! No wonder Eric wanted to get rid of her. Why the Royal started dating her at all was more of a question.

Nick frowned when something Christian had told him came back to his mind: his companion was pregnant. Adalind was carrying a child.

Eric's? But why would he want to get her killed then? Wouldn't he be more interested in the baby first?

Adalind put her bag aside and looked at him very seriously. "I don't mean normal dreams. You had nightmares," she said.

The muscles in Nick's cheeks began to work and he looked aside, surveying their surroundings. Trees and bushes, all well trimmed. Only a small path was left open to come and leave this place.

"How did you end up as Eric's bodyguard?" Adalind asked.

Not that this was anything for her interest!

Nick stood up, stretching. "Where are we?" he asked.

"Zentralfriedhof," came the answer. "Central cemetery." Adalind muffled something. "I get it, you don't like me. But you will forgive me if I am interested in the one who's supposed to protect me on my way home. Because you have changed a lot since we met the last time."

"We should move. Eric will be searching for us," Nick decided. Checking his pockets he found everything still in place. But he never expected Adalind to be a pickpocket. And he didn't know what she had in her bag.

"So we are going to ignore each other now?" Adalind ask in a cold voice.

Nick bit his lips. Again the muscles in his cheeks tightened. Then he nodded and turned around. Lifting his arms he smiled, full of irony. "How do you think I came here? Just booked a flight to Austria to have a nice holiday at Prince Eric's very private resort up in the attic of his castle? No! He brought me here after one of his henchmen abducted me!"

Adalind startled, her face ashen. "What?"

Nick nodded. "And somehow I have the idea that he wouldn't have been so interested in breaking my will and make me work for him if you hadn't told him about me. But that's only an impression of mine."

Adalind's mouth opened and closed for a few seconds while she stared at him. "Yes, I told him about you and Sean and everything," she finally answered, coming to her feet herself, moving the bag in front of her like a shield. "But that was months ago! Long before I came back to Portland last fall!"

"Well, obviously Eric needed a little time to prepare everything so he could put me in a coffin and bring me here like luggage!"

Nick felt a deep, dark hatred coming from deep inside himself. Much more deep and much more hatred than he'd ever expected to be able to feel for Adalind.

Yes, she'd done a lot of harm to him, trying to kill Aunt Marie, possibly hiring the fake priest who finally finished what the Reaper had begun; putting Hank and Wu under a spell which could have cost both men their lives; trying to blackmail Nick; threatening him with Hank's life. Then putting Juliette under a spell, first letting her slip into a coma, then making her forget him and finally letting her fall for his boss, who turned out to be the Royal in Portland and also Adalind's ex-boyfriend.

"He did what?" Adalind's eyes widened. Frowning, she seemed to start to think about something.

"I'll tell you what we will do," Nick said, stepping away from her to the small path leading through the trees and bushes, into the cemetery proper. "I will help you getting out of Vienna. And then we will leave each other alone. I don't trust you and I don't want to be anywhere near you!"

Something closed in his throat. He couldn't breathe.

"You are going to abandon me? Fine!" Suddenly Adalind seemed to be the old bitch again. "Go! Now! After last night I was ready to give you another chance. I ignored the fact that I am standing in front of my mother's killer here. I will find a way myself! Go back to the car and drive to the airport. I have my tickets, I will make it home!"

Nick fought for air, once more his heart sped up while he gasped. Suddenly the world seemed to tilt, slid and buckle. His knees were wobbly again.

When he collapsed, Adalind seemed to realize that something was wrong and came to him. Getting down to her knees, she touched his sweaty skin, and Nick was able to breathe again. He knelt on the path, choking and gasping, trying to understand what had just happened to him.

"You are right, we should leave," Adalind said, suddenly sounding friendly.

Nick looked up to her, frowning. She touched him, gentle, on his back. He barely could stand this. He didn't want her to touch him, and that was weird.

"I didn't kill your mother," Nick finally croaked, still a little throaty. He shrugged her hand from his back and got back to his feet again, still a little weak but better now.

Adalind looked up to him. "Then who else?" she asked. "You are the detective leading my mother's case. You took me into custody last year."

"I took you into custody to keep everyone safe!" interrupted Nick, again feeling the anger growing inside him

Another thing that was weird. Yes, he hated Adalind for what she did. But so far he also felt at least a little responsible. If he hadn't killed Adalind's Hexenbiest, who knew? Maybe he really should have ended the job. But he couldn't have. After the spirit which possessed her back then was gone, he had no reason to kill her as a human. Maybe now, but not then.

"Keep them safe? From whom?" she asked, head tilted.

"From you!" Nick spat out. Then he jumped, turning around. He stared into the wall of well-trimmed evergreens, listening to the voices growing louder quickly.

He took a step back, closer to Adalind, and tried to understand what those voices were saying. But it was hopeless; he still wasn't able to understand more than a handful of words in German.

"What's wrong?" Adalind asked, watching him closely. "Are you going to collapse again?"

Nick shook his head. "Someone's coming," he answered softly.

Adalind blinked and tried to listen herself. "Who?"

"I don't know. But I still think we should leave. So far our path has been very predictable. We need to change that."

"Eric has Hundjaeger and Koeningsschlangen for such services, Nick. They can smell us even if we swam through the Bodensee!"

"Well, the car isn't an option anymore." Nick turned around to her. "Is there more than one entrance to this cemetery?" he asked.

Adalind nodded. "Yes, of course."

"Then we should take a side entrance out." Nick took her by the arm and went quickly down the path. And inside him anger was still boiling. He hated Adalind more than he had hated Franz ...  
_________________________________________________________________

After Christian had told him everything, Sean cancelled the meeting at the city hall. Instead he spent the whole night together with his old classmate searching the book Christian had brought with him, staring at the photos he had taken in the kitchen, trying to put the pieces together about what Eric had done to Nick. That it had been done, either by himself or by this inferiors, was clear. But what?

Sean never got into all the potions and lotions stuff, not to mention the other spells a Hexen- or Zauberbiest was usually supposed to know. When he was young his mother had taught him and Christian a little. But after they had to leave Genieve, everything went south. Once Sean's life had settled again, he was too old to learn properly, and was separated from his mother. She had decided it would be safer for both of them to split up. Sean could only agree. He didn't even know where to find his mother nowadays. He had completely lost track of her, so he couldn't tell anyone under force or by accident where to look. Here and there a call, a virtual card on his birthdays, sent by proxy-servers to hide the true location. But that was it.

So Sean and Christian spent most of the night debating on what to do now.

Nick was gone, together with Adalind. And Sean wasn't sure if both would make it. It would definitely be a challenge, especially for Nick.

Adalind, that was another story. Not only did Sean develop a spontaneous headache listening to Christian reveal the whole story about her being the soon-to-be mother, but now he also felt a sharp pain in his stomach, remembering himself having desperate sex with Adalind after he released her from the holding cells in the middle of the night.

Eric wanted to get rid of Adalind and the baby. Usually—especially because there weren't so many fertile Royals around anymore—Eric would have to keep the baby, even if he wanted to get rid of the mother. That he wanted both dead in this case told Sean a lot about the father possibility of this child.

Eric would never kill his own heir, no matter what he might have thought about the child. But he knew how precious such a child was nowadays. The only other option in this scenario, the only explanation for Eric's order, was that he, Sean, was the father and that Eric knew this, knew about the night in the woods.

More evidence of a spy in his own precinct. And more evidence about Adalind's true nature.

To know that Nick was now with her increased Sean's headache, especially with being unsure of what Eric had done to the Grimm.

At the end of the night they had reduced the possible potions down to two, and none of them sounded too good for Sean's taste. He might not be a master of potions but he was able to put the ingredients together, and had an impression of what they might do to a victim. Both potions were meant to harm and control Grimm. Hexenbiests and Grimm had a long tradition of trying to get hold of each other, and there were also different possibilities for both to kill the other one.

Narrowing it down to two was a huge step, but still not enough. So Sean came to the decision of getting to the Spice Shop in hopes that Rosalee would be back by now, or that Monroe would know where to find her or be able to call her.

Sean felt sick just by thinking about what might be going on in Austria right now. So far the other families might not know about a Grimm on the run, not knowing about who this Grimm was. Nick had made an impression on all Royal families since his Grimm awoke. His open provocation of the Reapers and the fact that he had killed every sent assassin so far showed what kind of Grimm he was. Every Royal family would love to get their hands on him, to control him this way or another. And Adalind's baby was the same tempting trophy. Not many Royals were out there these days. Most of them were fighting each other, eager to gain more power. A Royal baby, no matter who it came from, was a powerful tool for the future, and would strengthen the family.

Sean felt really sick and found himself questioning if this was all worth it. For such a long time he had lived a quiet life, now and then doing a little job for the family, getting recognition from the local politicians, maybe dreaming about one day being in the position to teach his brother a lesson. His connection with the resistance never was as close as it was now. He had his spies in the families, knowing the others were doing the same with him. Not that big of a problem.

His youth was another story. After he had finally made it to the US, his mother using every connection she had to get him citizenship, he had sort of a normal life. His one attempt to get back to Europe had ended in a disaster, so he ended up, instead of becoming a physician, studying law at the university, and then joining the police force, not really interested in becoming a lawyer. Well, he had to admit, it might also have been because of his old love, long before Adalind was old enough to become his girlfriend.

Christian drove, using the route planner as he didn't know Portland at all.

Another problem was just emerging with his old classmate now here. First Vitkor, and the moment Viktor found out about Christian, Sean had also to fear for his old friend. Viktor and Christian knew each other, and Viktor was well aware of the treasure which was Christian's memory, knowing a lot of Eric's secrets.

Sean didn't want to know them, even though he knew Christian would tell him. He wanted a fair fight in the end, not to bring down his half-brother using dirty little secrets. But Eric would probably fear Christian would open his mouth and send another group of assassins to kill him. And that was another possibility Sean wouldn't be able to accept.

They drove down to the Pearl and got lucky with a parking space right in front of the Spice Shop. The little sign in the door told Sean the shop was open.

Christian looked at the storefront with a raised eyebrow. "This it is?" he asked, the doubt in his voice as audible as it was plain on his face.

Sean nodded. "Don't judge from the outside. The Fuchsbau in charge is one hell of a apothecary!" He opened the door, bringing Pierre's potion book.

Christian pulled a face but got out of the car and followed Sean to the shop, still scanning the facade with some disbelief.

The familiar smell of tea and herbs welcomed them when they entered the shop. Luckily they were the only costumers, so Sean waited until Christian was inside before he turned the "Open" sign to the"Closed" side and moved the latch.

"I'll be there in a minute!" Monroe's voice came from the back room.

Christian looked around, frowning. Surprised, he finally noticed the huge clock behind the counter. "Wow! That's a real old one," he said, impressed.

Sean never really noticed said clock and looked at it, a little confused before he remembered that Monroe was a clockworker.

Christian began to read the little labels on the different bottles and boxes. His expression turned from disbelief to interest.

Finally the door to the back room opened and Monroe stepped into the shop. Obviously he had been working on a clock back there; the magnifier was still attached to his glasses. Now he looked surprised after noticing Sean.

"Wow! What are you doing here?" A small look to the door didn't seem to lift his mood. "This bad, huh?"

"Sorry if we interrupted you," Sean said, following Monroe, who was heading to the counter. "But we need help. By the way, this is Christian. Christian, meet Monroe, friend of the Grimm."

Monroe glanced at Christian and nodded before he stepped behind the counter. Leaning on it, he frowned. "Christian? As in the spy who found Nick?"

Christian nodded and came closer. "The same. I'm glad to meet you." He smiled and woged into his half-Wesen on purpose.

Monroe's eyebrows lifted another inch. "Wow!" he said, woging himself, which made Christian step back and send a confused glance at Sean.

"I should have warned you. He's Blutbad. His fiancée is the Fuchsbau," Sean said. Then he stepped in front of the counter and met Monroe's eyes. "We need to talk to Rosalee. Now! It's urgent."

Monroe's eyebrows finally got back where they belonged. Instead he started to frown. "I haven't heard from her or Juliette for two days. But they are in the woods. Doesn't mean anything had happened to them," he said.

"Juliette? As in the fiancée of the Grimm?" Christian asked. "Why she would go into the woods in her condition?"

Monroe exchanged a look with Sean. "News travel fast, huh?"

Sean shook his head. "We need her. Or... How well you are in potions?"

Monroe looked again at Christian. "How come you are here? I thought you were about to help Nick flee?" He blinked. "Is Nick with you?"

Christian shook his head. "He isn't."

Monroe's expression changed when he gave Sean a stare. "So your plan didn't work? Nick is still imprisoned?"

"He's free," Christian explained. "The plan worked ... sort of. It will probably take him longer to come back because he had to abandon the car I had given him. But he's out of the castle and out there."

"But still in Europe?" Monroe gave Sean another stare.

Christian nodded. "Yes, still in Europe. I had to leave too, but I couldn't bring him with me."

"Or you didn't want to."

"This is leading us nowhere," Sean interrupted, a tad impatient. "It doesn't matter if Christian is here or not. We should be lucky he made it. Otherwise we never would have learned about what Eric really did to Nick."

"Wait a minute, didn't you tell us Nick was tortured? What else could your dear brother have done to him?"

"Eric hired a Zauberbiest to mix a potion," Christian answered. "Nick told me that he was forced into eating something. First in a mush which he avoided eating. Later Eric gave him meat he couldn't recognize. After he ate it he was sick, very sick."

Monroe straightened and looked at Christian, alarmed.

"Nick told me that Eric was upset that he went through a purification process here in Portland," Christian continued. "Two days ago, after Nick had left the castle with Eric, I met with the hired Zauberbiest. He wasn't too cooperative and in the end I killed him. That's why I'm here now." He shrugged.

Monroe exchanged another look with Sean. "Do you guys have an idea what meat Nick got? What effect could a potion possibly have on him? I mean, as far as I know this Eric wants him alive. He wouldn't try to poison him to kill him, right?"

Sean pulled the potion book out of the pocket of his trench coat and put it on the counter. "We nailed it down to two possibilities after what Christian found when he ran into this Zauberbiest," he said and opened the book to the first marked recipe. "We need Rosalee to mix an antidote as soon as possible. Maybe we can get it somehow to Europe and in Nick's hands, or we will await him here and give it to him the moment he arrives at the airport."

Monroe turned the book and leaned forward to read. He swallowed after he read the first ingredient. "That's impossible! No one would do that!"

Sean gave Christian a nod and the little man came to the counter, pulling out his cellphone and showing a blurry picture to Monroe.

The Blutbad went ashen. "Oh my God!" he whispered gutturally.

Sean startled. "Do you recognize her?" he asked.

Monroe nodded and looked up. "That is Nick's mom, Kelly Burkhardt. What the hell did your brother do to her?"

"He had her butchered to feed her flesh to Nick," Christian answered.

Silence fell over the three men ...  
_________________________________________________________________

Hank was lying on the bed again, staring at the ceiling and trying to ignore the man two cells ahead, who was snoring the alcohol off. A while ago Hank's companion threw up. Sure, he was quick and used the toilet. But the ventilation didn't work in here, or not properly, and the entire section of the building was stinking now.

For how long he had he been here now? He couldn't really remember. The days had gone by in stupidity and boredom. Every morning he got the chance to clean himself at the mens' restroom, and sometimes he was taken in for questioning. But he had lost track at one time, couldn't really count on how long he had been here for sure.

Three weeks? Four weeks? Longer?

The door at the other end of the cell block opened and footsteps came up to his cell.

Hank risked a look and sighed, deeply annoyed after he saw once more the snarky sergeant coming to his cell.

"Who was it this time?" he asked, deeply groaning while he sat up.

The sergeant blinked. "No one," he answered and pulled a key ring out of his pocket.

Hank froze for a second, watching the uniformed cop try several different keys in the lock to his cell.

"Another interrogation?" Hank asked, his heart pounding rapidly.

"Nope." The sergeant looked up, grinning. "We have a plan."

The next key didn't unlock the door either.

Hank watched the other cop suspiciously. "And why do I have the feeling I might not like what you came up with? Who planned at all? The captain?"

If Renard had something to do with what was going on right now, Hank would at least feel a little relieved. But the simple fact that this cop on the other side of the bars didn't know which key opened the door made his stomach ache.

"Ahm, not directly."

The next key, another blank.

Hank watched the ring and came to the conclusion that he was running out of keys – or time. He wasn't sure which suited him better. Slowly he stood up, still hesitant on what to do next.

"Whose plan?" he repeated.

The sergeant tried another key and sent Hank the huge, happy grin of the winner of a difficult contest. "Wu came up with it," he answered, turning the key. The door swung open. "We'll release you, sort of. And you and your girlfriend will go to a safe place until we need you to testify what happened."

"I don't know what happened at all," Hank answered and stepped back. "And I'm pretty sure this isn't Wu's smartest idea. I am most likely innocent, yes, but I cannot verify that as long as I haven't seen the murder weapon!"

"Will a photo do it?" The sergeant blinked and pulled a file from under his jacket. "This is everything we have about the crime scene at the motel."

"You are compromising evidence the moment you hand it over to me," Hank warned, but he also felt the urgent need to finally take a look.

Damn! He had to know! If the gun wasn't his, he had nothing to worry about. The traces of gunpowder on his hands could have a reason other than the killing of Remy!

The uniformed cop looked at him, still offering him the file.

"Damn, don't be so bullheaded, man!" he finally cried. "You are not responsible. And even if you were, which I doubt, there will be a reason for the shooting. Now, take the file and follow me."

Hank hesitated for another second, but the file was too tempting. As was finally being able to breathe fresh air and not be limited to a cell of the size of a telephone box.

He grabbed the file and his jacket and followed the sergeant out of the cell block.

"Not Wu's smartest idea," he repeated. "Seriously, you guys have watched too much James Bond."

The sergeant, his badge calling him "Gonzales," looked over his shoulder. "You should tell Wu. I had nothing to do with it. I don't get why it was now so urgent to pull you out." He stopped for a second and took another look over his shoulder. "Oh, and before I forget, you are supposed to knock me out. We have to explain how you got out, you know."

That was the smallest of all problems, Hank was sure as he followed Gonzales down a hallway to stairs, obviously the back door to the precinct. Hank noticed cameras on the ceiling while they went down, but the blinking red lights were off.

"You manipulated the surveillance?" he asked.

Gonzales grinned again. "Update. That's why I came so late. I had to wait until the tech guy started uploading the upgrade."  
Hopefully they would have enough time before the cameras would restart.

A metal door was awaiting them at the end of the stairs. Gonzales opened it, using all of his weight. The smell of gasoline, oil and gummi was like perfume to Hank.

Gonzales pulled out his gun and handed it to Hank. "Just in case," he said. "Your girlfriend should be here any minute."

The sound of an engine coming up to them seemed to verify this.

Hank risked a look and saw a dark SUV coming down the lot and stopping right in front of the door.

"Good luck," Gonzales said. "And, please, don't hit too hard."

"Should it look believable?" Hank asked.

Gonzales nodded and blinked again.

Man, this guy looked a bit like Nick, came the realization to Hank.

"Then I'm sorry." The blow came all of the sudden for Gonzales, and made him crash into the wall, slowly sliding down with dazed eyes and a reddened cheek.

"Sorry, man." Hank smiled before he left to jump into the SUV ...  
_________________________________________________________________

The container yard on the Old Lumber Road was again alive. Not as crowded as the last time the zombies rose from here against Portland to catch a Grimm. But there might be twenty or a little more people standing or walking up to the center of the yard, hoping for a glimpse of her.

And so was he. He parked his truck on the old parking lot and came over, as though he was being pulled by invisible threads. He knew where to go, whom he would find there. The others standing around or walking up with him were barely recognized by him.

He came because he was called here. He came to fulfill everything he would be asked for. He came here for her.

And in the middle of the yard there were two containers, lined up side by side. A bonfire was burning in front of them, and behind this bonfire he finally found the one who was calling him.

And he went to her, only to smell her, to get another bit of her endless love in which he could drown knowing she would take care of him.

She was sitting on an armchair, listening to another person. And he felt a bit of anger that he was supposed to wait now. But she moved her head when he came closer, and a smile lighted up her face. The face of the woman who visited the Spice Shop yesterday.

"Ah, here you are," she greeted him. With one hand she gave him permission to join her. And he did, heart beating fast, as happy as he had been on the day his youngest child was born.

Still she smiled, but her eyes were cold as ice. Her finger touched his arm and for a second she seemed to be far away before she was back in the here an now again.

"Now, Bud Wurstner, tell me everything you know about the friends of the Grimm. Especially his fiancée Juliette Silverton," Eloise Frieda, stepdaughter and heir of Baron Samedi, asked the Eisbiber ...


	11. It's a Grimm World

A/N: A million thanks again to Merlyn Pyndragon for her awesome beta work! I couldn't make this without you, hun! A little note on this chapter is, I'm doing a little bit of history here. The Turkish Sieges are history, and so are the story about the tunnels. The only thing isn't true (as far as I know) those tunnels are gone completely now. Or maybe not? ;)

Still they were in the suburbs of Vienna. Not because they couldn't find a way out but because every single one of those ways seemed to be blocked by Verrat and police. Nick didn't know what to do now. He knew they had to leave Vienna as fast as possible, but he didn't know how they could. Every street leading out of the city was blocked or had checkpoints. Every car, every truck, every bus and every train was being searched for him and Adalind. And now he had just looked into his own face on a TV screen.

They hid now in a shopping center – or what Europeans called shopping centers. It was a huge difference to the malls he knew, and he probably would have enjoyed coming here, if there weren't Hundjaegers hounding them and if he wasn't staring at his own face, larger than life, on a screen. And not just one screen: there were thirty or more flatscreens hanging on a long wall. And on every single screen he saw his face, sometimes bigger, sometimes smaller, more bright than in reality, in HD quality or not. Now the screen changed and Adalind's face came into view.

Nick frowned. "Did that subtitle say Thomas Schirach?" he asked.

Adalind was standing by his side, staring at the many screens in horror.

Yeah, Nick knew what she was thinking. But she was probably wrong.

His experience as a cop told him that those TV-demands were a long shot. Most people didn't care about what was on those thirty screens, and if they cared, it was more about the quality of the pictures than about what those pictures were showing. And even on the streets, the average civilian didn't want to be bothered by criminals, and right now Adalind and he were marked as criminals. The average civilian would simply ignore them, pretending or really not knowing that they were the couple on their TV-screens. Nick's only fear was the few heroes out there.

"What are we going to do now?" Adalind whispered. She looked over her shoulder and seemed to count all the people in this mall, no matter if customer or clerk.

"Nothing," Nick answered, actually relieved about this development.

So far he couldn't tell if this newly-won freedom was easy. Sleeping on park benches, having trouble with the local money (why the heck were there so many coins as change in Euros? What was wrong with notes only?), being hunted and having difficulty leaving this damned city. But maybe, or so Nick had told himself, he was looking in the wrong places. And that was why they were here.

He hoped to buy another map, something they could use to leave on foot as it was impossible to depart Vienna on any other kind of transportation. The map Christian had given to him was a good one, but not a city one. And right now they needed to know how to leave the city without any transportation, in the hopes of slipping through Eric's net.

"All these people are seeing us!" Adalind protested, still whispering.

Nick shrugged. "They are seeing a couple arguing in front of a shop offering TVs. What would you think about us if you saw us standing here?" he asked. "Would you really draw the line from us arguing to the faces on the screens behind us? I tell you as a cop. You have no idea how easy it is for someone who is being searched for to be invisible. The moment we panic, the people will know that something's wrong. But not so far."

Adalind didn't seem any calmer. She looked at him, full of scepticism.

Nick sighed, took her again by her elbow and walked away from the recording of what happened last night at the subway station.

"Maybe I'm panicking," Adalind finally answered, "but I think I have every right to panic in our current situation."

Nick felt a weight falling off his shoulders after they left the TV area. No matter if it was risky at all to be here. On the other hand, they didn't have much of a choice. They needed supplies. The supplies Christian and his friends from the resistance got for them were stored in the car.

For a split second Nick thought again about this car. Adalind still had the keys in her bag. The car might still be parked near the opera, if the Hundjaegers hadn't drawn the line between an abandoned car and the escape of two people. The car could also be a trap, if Eric hoped they would try to get out of Vienna the planned way.

Why did he have to fight Franz? Why drag the other Grimm on stage? There hadn't been much time. Actually, the time frame this Dirk had set up had been impossible to work with from the very beginning: Eight minutes for everything until they had to leave the building.

Obviously the team Christian put in charge didn't have the experience with escapes at all, Nick had surmised. And under the circumstances last night, this whole thing would have been blown apart the moment Adalind and he had left the building, no matter which way or in what time frame. His fight with Franz truly didn't help much, but it caused the confusion he and Adalind needed to get to the subway.

Nick stopped after they left the shop. "Listen," he said, trying to catch Adalind's eye, "right now our best camouflage is to be as normal as possible. The more attention we draw to us, the more we are put in danger. Like I said, as a cop I've seen convicted murderers living for years among average people after they broke out of prison. We will hopefully manage to manage that for a day or two."

He hoped to depart from Adalind soon. No matter if Christian wanted them to flee together, him obviously as guardian for the unborn, he couldn't stand Adalind. He couldn't! And he felt Adalind thought the same about him. So, the best solution to this situation was to go different ways and never meet again in their lives.

Wasn't there a saying about meeting twice? Well, this was hopefully the second meeting so their lives would never cross again.

Thinking of that, Nick started to wonder again. Adalind pregnant and Eric wanting to get rid of her and most likely the child. Nick was under the impression that Eric knew about Adalind's condition. But why did Eric want to kill the mother of his heir? Adalind was his fiancée, she wasn't someone Eric simply picked from the street.

Another question: How did they meet?

But more important was the unborn. What about that? Was Eric the father? But why kill the mother and the child? Why not wait until Adalind gave birth and murder her then, keeping the baby?

Adalind stared at him, nose wrinkled after he mentioned the word "normal". Naturally she wouldn't be normal. He made her normal with killing her Hexenbiest. Another grudge on a long list.

Nick decided not to ask about the child. Not because he was sympathetic but because he wasn't supposed to ask. Departed and on his own he could think this whole situation through. Right now, most unlikely.

"I'm not normal!" Adalind told him.

Surely she wasn't! She was the nemesis which haunted him in his dreams along with the Cracher-Mortal.

Nick lifted his hands, palms out. "Okay," he said.

Adalind stared at him for a moment, then she seemed to realize and became fully focused on something behind his back.

Nick turned around and saw a boutique, which was just opening. The saleswoman brought some clothes out into the hall.

Nick sighed and gave in. It was probably the best he could do, he told himself when he stepped aside. "But choose something practical," he told her. "Do you have money?"

The look Adalind gave him told him she wanted to feel better now, not suit him or the way they had to go.

Probably she was still thinking of a vehicle to get out of Vienna. Train, car. Nick doubted she would think about trucks or buses, and bikes of any kind would be a complete no-go for her. But no matter what she wanted, she needed to think about them fleeing on foot. She might be well trained walking in heels, which she was—he remembered her flight down the stairs in that hotel pretty well—but on open range, when they had to move quickly, "happy shoes" for Adalind would most likely be "crappy shoes" for them.

"No high heels, please," Nick whispered, reading in her face that that was exactly the opposite to what she had in mind. "I'll wait for you at the fountain over there. Don't take too long. We need to move."

"You are not my babysitter, Nick Burkhardt!" Adalind snapped and marched away from him.

Nick sighed and swallowed the answer he had dancing on his tongue. Instead he got the map out of his pocket and walked over to the fountain.

They needed a map of Vienna, he thought again. And most likely a map for hikers. Only he didn't know where to get those. An outdoor store?

Nick came across another floor map, a service point with a map of the whole shopping center including all shops in here. He looked at it and sighed, checking on Adalind, who had just entered the boutique.

Okay, they needed a map of Vienna and he needed a dictionary. When he left Adalind he would have to be able to find his way around on his own. And so far one barrier was still intact: he barely understood German and couldn't read it either.

Nick stared at the map of the shopping center, concentrating on a single word: maps. Maybe he would find something. Something ...

His throat seemed to shrink a little. He needed to focus more, he told himself. It couldn't be too hard to find what he was looking for without Adalind's help.

Papesterie Mienderle.

Nick swallowed and cleared his throat. He couldn't inhale enough air.

What the heck was going on?

Papesterie ...

His throat closed entirely, leaving him gasping for breath. His heart rate quickened and he heard the blood in his ears. Just like the night when Eric and his two Grimm tortured him the first time.

Nick dug his nails into the metal of the service point, feeling panic set in.

What was wrong? This was the second time within a day he was having trouble breathing.

He tried harder, still doing his best to cover his problem, not to show anybody that he was running out of air in the middle of a shopping center.

Breathe! Breathe!

He couldn't.

"Geht es Ihnen nicht gut?" a voice asked, nearly drowned by the rushing of the blood in his ears.

Nick leaned against the pole with the map, trying his best to act like this was nothing. But it was! Something was very wrong.

When he looked up to the boutique, he didn't see Adalind.

Adalind!

The first time this happened was when he tried to leave her in the graveyard. And now she was supposed to ... he couldn't see her!

The child was gone, and Nick had to fight to keep on his feet. His knees were shaking, barely holding his weight.

Adalind was still not in sight.

Did this have something to do with her?

Eric smiling at him after he admitted to poisoning him with the mysterious meat, explaining to him that there had been a special ingredient used.

And suddenly Nick understood. He understood why Eric could let him go at the opera, leaving him with Adalind alone. He didn't know how it worked but he knew this special ingredient wasn't meant to "help him over the edge" like Eric had told him. This ingredient chained him to Adalind! He couldn't leave her.

"Mein Herr, alles in Ordnung mit Ihnen?" a woman asked. The child had brought her with it.

Still he couldn't breath, and he was running out of air.

The woman had the same eyes as the child, warm and sympathetic, Nick thought. She grabbed him and steadied him again. "Kommen Sie, setzen Sie sich."

Adalind wasn't in the boutique anymore! He couldn't see her.

Now the panic set in. Nick didn't know what to do. Not in this situation.

The woman led him to the fountain where some benches awaited tired customers. Nick stared over at the boutique, trying to make out Adalind. But he knew she had left the shop and tried to escape on her own.

The woman helped him sit down and leaned forward. "Haben Sie vielleicht Asthma?" she asked.

That sounded somehow familiar enough that Nick started to nod, still fighting for the next breath to take.

"Wo ist ihr Inhalator?" The woman asked.

Nick couldn't understand.

"Mama, ich glaube, er ist ein Auslaender," the child said.

Auslaender, foreigner. Yes! Nick nodded, pointing at the boutique he tried to tell that his companion was supposed to be in there.

The woman frowned, looking over her shoulder where his finger pointed. "Ihre Frau? Hat sie den Inhalator?" She seemed to realize that he really couldn't understand and asked in English: "Is your wife in the shop?"

Nick nodded enthusiastically.

"Ich habe ihn zusammen mit einer huebschen Blonden gesehen," the voice of a man said. "Sie ging in die Boutique."

"Stefanie, geh dort rein und such eine blonde Frau. Sag ihr, ihr Mann hat einen Anfall und braucht seinen Inhalator," the woman said to the child. And the child ran off, across the hall to the boutique.

Nick could only hope that his suspicion was wrong, but he felt Adalind was gone ...

***

"Are you kidding me?" Norman turned around to face Juliette once more. With his hand he pointed to the window of the cabin. Out there, on the porch, were Rosalee and his companion Teresa. "Are you really going to tell me you are friends with one of them? Are you insane?"

Juliette stood there, leaning on one shoulder against a wooden wall, arms folded before her chest and watching the restless walk her uncle was doing.

This was not at all anywhere near the meeting she had imagined. True, she knew this would have most likely been difficult, but it never crossed her mind that it would be Rosalee her uncle would have problems with. Rosalee was one of the smartest and kindest persons she had ever met in her life. It was unbelievable that someone else couldn't see her for this instead of being Wesen.

"Rosalee is a friend of mine, a very good friend," Juliette said, her voice as calm as possible. "She helped me through very difficult times. That's why I brought her with me after I decided to come here looking for you."

Norman turned on his heels and looked at her. He was getting old, Juliette realized. His hair was a dusty grey and needed a cut. There were lines in his face she'd never seen before, but told her about a life harder than he deserved. He needed a shave with the haircut and his clothes didn't fit too well, worn and patched many times. His skin was weathered from the years in the woods. Only his boots seemed new, if not well used.

"A friend?" he asked, lifting his hands in an empty gesture of helplessness. "She's a friend? How long do you think she'd be a friend if you were weak? Hurt or sick or simply unable to do what your job is? How much time do you think your friend needs to kill you then?"

"Rosalee wouldn't do that!" Juliette said, not snapping, only making it clear. She nodded outside, where not only Rosalee was waiting. "What about your new friend?"

"Teresa is a good girl who had been through hell. Sounds familiar to me. So, don't mess with me about her!" Norman stared at Juliette angrily. "She's one of us, not like your Fuchsbau friend. And if I were you I would give her permission to kill that bitch. She has already seen too much."

"Rosalee is not a problem. That girl could be. How old is she?" Juliette frowned. "I believe you, and I believe Jim. You helped her and she helps you. But for outsiders this could tell another story. Do you really want to do that?"

Norman stepped closer. "Stop messing with me about Teresa! She's a good girl! Her entire family was killed by your so called friends, did you know that?"

No, she didn't. And after all Juliette had learned over the past few months she couldn't believe that Wesen would go out and kill Grimm only because there were Grimm in their town. She'd talked a lot with Bud and his wife, and with other Wesen. One time she joined Monroe on a Sunday and went with him to church where the community was entirely Wesen (Monroe told her it would be a Wider-church for all Wesen like him, tired of the old ways). And she knew Nick.

"I am sorry for her loss," Juliette said, and she meant it. "But I doubt that the only reason for those Wesen to come forward killing a human, or Grimm, family was just for fun. Not after what I've seen so far in Portland."

Norman looked at her and started shaking his head. "I cannot believe that," he finally said with a bitter snort. "Since when are you an expert? The last time I saw you, you were human only. I've no idea why you awoke so late!"

That hurt but was also true. And it was one of the reasons why Juliette was here. She had read in Nick's books that female Grimm awoke earlier, male later. But why she was so late? She still thought it was because she carried Nick's child but she wasn't sure.

"Does that matter?" she asked.

"If you want to survive, maybe," Norman told her. Again he pointed outside the cabin. "And we should start first with killing that Fuchsbau out there. Then you are safe for now."

"I'm not going to give you permission to kill a friend of mine," Juliette said. "As I've already told you, there are different ways. And Nick and I, we are going this the different way."

"A different way? Like what? Becoming the house pet of a Fuchsbau?" Norman frowned, realizing not only the name Juliette just revealed, but also that he had most likely stepped too far. "Sorry," he mumbled and walked to the other side of the cabin. "So, Nick's a Grimm, I suppose? Your big love."

Juliette nodded. "He is. He became a Grimm two years ago," she answered.

Norman took a deep breath. "And how is he keeping up to it? How does he see you now? How long have you been one of us?"

Juliette smiled. "A little more than a week," she answered.

Norman sighed and shook his head.

"But that's not the point. Nick's been a Grimm for more than two years and he's friends with a lot of Wesen. That's the way we are trying. He can keep up with the Grimm in his work, solving his cases with the abilities," Juliette continued.

Norman looked at her. "He's friends with Wesen too?" he asked.

Juliette nodded. "He kept his Grimm secret from me and we broke up for a while. Guess where he lived then? With Rosalee's fiancée, who's a Blutbad. Nick and he are best friends and they saved each others' lives more than one time."

Norman stared at her with a mixture of disbelief and disgust. "Are you kidding me?"

Juliette shook her head. "I'm not."

Norman gazed out the window, across the porch, and frowned. When Juliette turned her head she saw that Rosalee finally had the attention of Teresa and was talking to her. The girl looked nervous, haunted and unsure of what to do, but she listened and gave answers. The whole conversation out there was only heard as mumbling inside the cabin, so Juliette couldn't understand what they were talking about. But it felt good that Rosalee had broken the ice.

"Wesen are just like normal humans," Juliette said now. "They have flaws and strengths, just like us. You cannot judge all of them from the small number of criminals."

Norman turned his head and stared her. "Where's Nick?" he finally asked, a little underline in his voice Juliette couldn't make much sense of. "Why did you come with her when there's another Grimm in Portland? Your partner, your big love?"

Juliette got a bad feeling but didn't move a muscle. "Nick's not in Portland," she answered.

Norman nodded. "Where is he?" he demanded to know.

Juliette lifted her chin. "He was abducted four months ago and was brought to Europe. The last I heard from him was that he's prisoner of one of the Royals. The one that gave the order to trap him," she answered.

Norman's face went pale. "You come here, knowing that there's at least one Royal who already has some knowledge, who's responsible for your partner being shipped off to another continent. Do you know why Grimm came over here to the US?"

Juliette had found a note in one of his books and nodded. "The same reason the Wesen came over here. To be free from the Royals."

"And you and Nick brought them here with your new way!" Norman snapped. "Everything's okay as long as no one messes with the status quo. Status quo means Grimm are doing what they have done since the dawn of time: hunt down Wesen. And Wesen kill Grimm if they get their hands on one. We are not befriending each other!"

"And do you really know all this hate and all this fear will lead to something else other than the extinction of both of us?" Juliette asked.

The door to the cabin opened and Teresa came in, Rosalee on her heels, both looking with big brown eyes.

"I told you to stay outside while I have a private conversation with my niece," Norman said.

"Why don't we go to Portland and look at what your niece and her fiancé are doing there?" the girl asked. "Rosalee here told me—"

"Don't listen to her!" Norman turned to the newcomers and stared angrily at Rosalee. "They are our sworn enemies, Teresa! They will tell you anything to get their hands on you, lure you out to kill you!"

"That's not true," Rosalee said. "We would never do that." She blinked and looked at the girl. "Teresa? I thought you said your name was Trubel?"

"That's one of those stupid nicknames kids give each other," Norman said, rolling his eyes after he realized that he was talking to his sworn enemy. "For God's sake, throw her out of my cabin, Teresa! Now!"

Juliette marched over to the two other women and took Rosalee's hand. "Why not, Uncle? Why not take a look at what we are doing in Portland? You would probably like it."

Teresa nodded enthusiastically.

Norman shook his head. "This is a failure and you should correct it as fast as possible, Juliette," he said. "Look what your new way did to your Nick! He's a prisoner, you told me that yourself."

"And he will be back soon," Rosalee said. "In fact I think the schedule for his flight from the castle was yesterday. Nick will be back right on time to see his ..." She shut up after she realized what she was about to reveal.

Juliette gave her a warning glance over her shoulder, but Norman had noticed.

"What?" he asked. "Before he what?" He looked at Juliette, thinking through what she'd told him. His face lost the last remains of color. "You are pregnant!"

Teresa jumped from the two women, staring at Juliette as though she was an alien.

Norman staggered to a dresser to keep his balance.

"I'm sorry," Rosalee whispered behind Juliette's back.

"It's okay. Sooner or later I had to tell," Juliette answered, still keeping an eye on her uncle.

Suddenly Norman started to laugh a bitter and ironic laugh. "And you came here to ask me why you awoke so late, right? You have the answer!"

Teresa seemed confused and took another step backwards.

"Why?" Juliette asked. "I'm sorry but obviously I'm missing the point here."

Norman nodded, stopping his laughter now. "You do," he explained. "The reason why you awoke now is that you had an overdose of Grimm. You are carrying the genes, but obviously not enough to wake you up in time. Then you are in a relationship with a Grimm over years before you two break up. Let me guess, you broke Nick's heart with whatever happened and he became much more Grimm than before."

Juliette blinked and send a silent question to Rosalee. And she nodded. "He was, yes," she answered.

Norman, now leaning with his back against the dresser, crossed his arms before his chest. "As far as I can remember you never wanted kids. So I assumed you were on birth control and Nick most likely did his part as well. As I recall, he was very thoughtful and compassionate towards you."

Juliette nodded.

"Do you know that our emotions, our experiences have direct consequences on us? I bet not." Norman lifted his chin. "Nick grew stronger because he was hurt. At one point, when you two had sex, his 'Grimm-ness' not only sabotaged all your precious protection, it also let your Grimm awake."

"But Nick was abducted more than two months before," Rosalee said.

"And the hormones for a pregnancy first had to developed in her body. She already carried Grimm genes and now something else, carrying Grimm genes, grows inside her. That was too much and that's the reason why she became a Grimm," Norman answered. "My ancestors did tons of research about how the inheritances work, Fuchsbau. Believe me, that's the answer!"

"And how I can get rid of it?" Juliette asked.

"Rid of it?" Norman shook his head. "Unless you find someone with the right potions and spells willing to work with you and you are willing to take the side effects ..." He shut up, staring at her. "God damn! Juliette, do you know what you are carrying there? That's not only a child with Grimm genes, that's a fullblood! Fullblooded Grimms are extremely rare, stronger than normal ones like me or Teresa or even you after your powers will have completely kicked in. Do you know what such a child will worth for the Royals?"

Juliette didn't, but she realized something else and exchanged another look with Rosalee.

Nick was stronger than usual, they'd heard it from different sources now ...

***

After she entered the boutique, Adalind started to smile. There was a second exit on the other side of the shopping center! She walked over to it, looking several times over her shoulder to be sure Nick wasn't following her. After she was convinced he was still waiting on the other side, she left the boutique, using the opposite exit. One of the three clerks looked after her, frowning. But it wasn't the first time people only crossed the shop to shorten their way, not really allowed but ignored by the shop clerks.

But what was different to other times was the maybe ten year old girl, who came into the boutique a couple of minutes later, asking: "Have you seen a pretty blonde lady? Her husband needs his inhalator, he's asthmatic!"

Adalind was still walking the other back hallway down to an exit, feeling relieved now. She had left Nick and his stupidity behind, him, her mother's murderer. She didn't believe a single word he stated about not having anything to do with her death. Nick had killed Adalind's Hexenbiest. He was ruthless when it came to Wesen he thought of as his enemies. Not that she would have ever tried to befriend him. A Grimm!

Next stop would be at a good boutique to change her clothes and get rid of these ridiculous shoes, Adalind decided. But not here. Not in reach of Nick Burkhardt, who would come looking for her because he needed her. Needed her because he couldn't speak German at all. Adalind hadn't noticed any development about this when she was together with him. And, she was sure, when she wasn't needed anymore, he would kill her like he killed her Hexenbiest in Portland.

She marched in the direction of the next main exit, opening and rummaging in her bag.

Unfortunately she didn't have that much money, but she still had the credit card Eric had gifted her on her last birthday. It wouldn't be too bad if she used it now. Surely Eric would send his Hundjaegers, but Adalind would be gone. And if Nick was at least a little clever he would be gone by then too.

"Gnae' Frau?" Someone stepped in her way, stopping her.

Adalind looked up and find herself facing a security guard. Surprised, she blinked. "Yes?" she asked. Taking a look over her shoulder she saw a young girl running in her direction, followed by an older woman in heels and a skirt.

"Sie sind Auslaenderin?" the guard asked.

Adalind looked up to him again. An older man, with thinning hair and a few pounds too many on his hips. His cheeks and nose were a ruddy color, not from too much alcohol but the remains of a sunburn.

"Ich verstehe Sie," Adalind answered and nodded. "Gibt es ein Problem?"

The girl stopped at her side, looking up to her.

Adalind frowned. "What?" she asked.

"Ihr Ehemann hat einen Anfall," the security guard said. "You should watch after him."

"He needs his inhaler," the girl said, pointing backwards from where she came.

Adalind shook her head in confusion. "I don't understand. I'm not married."

"Then your boyfriend. He is having trouble breathing," the girl explained.

Slowly the information sunk in and Adalind was reminded of the scene at the cemetery – Nick unable to breathe, nearly fainting before ...

"Oh no!"

What had Eric done to Nick? Why had Nick been stupid enough to let this happen to him?

Adalind looked at the exit. So close to freedom ... She only had to go, tell these strangers to go to hell and that she didn't know Nick at all. So close ...

She bit her lips.

Nick had saved her life at the opera. If he hadn't fought and killed the other Grimm, she would be dead by now, together with Dirk and the woman at the wardrobe. She owed Nick something.

It would be so easy. Leaving these people, leaving this place, getting back to the opera and, with a little luck, finding the car there still. True, now it was too late, she would never catch the plane to Marrakesch. But she could drive to Italy, France, Germany or Belgium and get another ticket, take another flight.

But there was still the memory of Nick last night and this morning. The memory of him sleeping on the bench, his face so young and innocent, like a little boy. His nightmare, the mumbling, the little movements, as if he was trying to fight something he couldn't win. Nick getting all pale, gasping for air, confusion in his big blue eyes because he couldn't understand what was happening to him.

Adalind remembered the last time Eric was at her hotel suite, when he came with her in the bathroom. It would be so easy to get some hair from her brush, so easy to give it so someone who knew how to use them and chain Nick to her with making him eat or drink the potion. A simple touch would seal the spell after they met afterwards. A single touch ... and Nick had took her by her arm last night several times.

So close to freedom ...

Adalind recognized that she had changed when she turned around and followed the girl and the woman, now recognized as one of the saleswomen at the boutique she had crossed. Back to Nick and saving his life this time.

Nick knew the moment he was able to breathe again that his suspicion had been right. He didn't have to look up; he could hear Adalind's footsteps and knew she was coming back.

What the hell had Eric done to him? It must have been the meat, that's for sure. But how was he supposed to kill Adalind if that would most likely mean he would be killing himself because he couldn't leave her? Was that Eric's plan all along? Turning him, the cop, into a killer to force him into self-destruction?

There was a tiny little voice which told him that was a point he was wrong about. Eric was too clever to kill him. One thing Nick believed about what the Royal had said: Eric wanted him on his side. Didn't Eric tell him that Grimm were rare nowadays, and that he would need every single Grimm he could get?

There was another piece that didn't really fit into the self-destruction theory: Eric wanted him to snap, wanted his dark side, the anger, the hatred Nick had learned to control since he became a Grimm. That would fit into forcing him to kill Adalind but not into suicide.

So what happened to him?

The woman, the mother of the girl if Nick guessed right, looked at him closely and blinked after she recognized his breath was steady again.

"Looks like the attack is gone." Nick smiled a bitter smile and looked up to Adalind. "There you are! Where've you been? I thought you only wanted to check out something at the boutique."

Adalind's face was best description of "turning every glass of milk sour", but there also was a little line on her forehead, straight to her hair. A line that made Nick frown.

She was worried about ... him? Maybe, he decided, maybe not.

The girl said something in German that made Adalind blush and the woman beside him angry. She focused on Adalind and snapped something in a very cold voice.

"You shouldn't judge what you don't know," Adalind returned.

The woman turned to Nick. "I'm sorry, but I work with victims of abuse," she told him. "And your wife just tried to leave you here. Sick and without medication."

Nick exchanged a look with Adalind, which made her face turn a little red. "It's a misunderstanding," he said then to the stranger, "It's okay. Really. Thanks for your help. It meant a lot to me."

The stranger shook her head and stood up. She was much taller than Adalind. "You should be ashamed of what you just tried," she said. "If there are problems in your marriage, there are much better ways to deal with it than to turn your back on your husband when he needs you. He could have died!"

Now it was Nick who blushed. Underneath his eyelashes he looked at people passing their little group. They were drawing attention to themselves. And that was the last thing they needed with their faces all over the news.

"You'd better keep quiet. This is not your business, lady!" Adalind snapped.

Nick's legs still were wobbly when he tried to get to his feet again. He still was too weak, and needed a little more time to recover. Maybe a side effect of whatever Eric did to him?

"It is my business when someone's getting hurt. So, again ..."

The girl came to Nick and smiled. "Everything's alright, mister?" she asked. Her accent was a little weird even for someone with German as native language.

Nick took a look over his shoulder. More people were looking in their direction the longer this argument lasted. They need to move, to leave. Right now! It only was a question of time until ...

The woman turned to him, looking down at him after he tried again to stand up. And this time she morphed. Woged into a female Loewen

Nick closed his eyes but the damage was already done. She would know what he was. And surely she would call for the security, and from the security to the police it only was one call. He'd rather not think about the following.

Silence.

"Mister? Are you okay?" the girl's voice asked.

Still silence. Adalind had shut up, and the Loewen-women as well. Surprisingly she didn't protect her daughter from him.

Slowly he opened his eyes again and startled.

The girl's face was only an inch from his and she studied him with interest. And she has morphed as well as her mother.

Nick swallowed.

"That's not good," he heard Adalind saying and nodded, still without opening his mouth.

The girl turned around, without any fear, and asked her mother something in German.

Nick saw Adalind's amused face but still didn't understand what had just happened.

The Loewen-woman looked for a moment to Adalind, then to him, seemed to think about something. Then she told the girl something in German, giving her orders.

Adalind looked surprised and Nick wished he had learned more German to really understand what the woman said.

The girl nodded, took one last look at him before she turned around and walked away. Adalind stepped back to let her pass and Nick was near a panic.

"So, that's why you two are all over the news," the woman finally said to him. "You are a Grimm. Is that really your wife?" She nodded in Adalind's direction.

Nick shook his head. "Friends helped us escape," he answered hesitantly. "But the plan didn't work out the way they'd hoped."

The woman nodded. "Resistance, huh? Yeah, their plans tend to fall apart at some point. Eric's too clever for them." She turned to Adalind. "And you are?"

"I am ..." Adalind closed her mouth, not really knowing what to tell.

"She was Eric's fiancée," Nick answered instead. "He wanted to get rid of her. The resistance thinks she might be helpful so I was asked to take her with me back to Portland."

The woman startled and frowned. "Portland? You are the missing Grimm then? The one who sent the heads to Mannheim?"

If he had known what he started when coming up with that plan together with Monroe, Nick wasn't too sure he would have done it. But now he nodded.

"Well done!" The woman grinned. "And I guess you two want to leave Vienna, but you are trapped here?"

Nick and Adalind nodded in unison.

The woman smiled. "We need a chance," she told them. "If we keep with the tradition and kill each other, we all will go extinct. And from all I've heard about you, you are trying to get over what your ancestors were and try a new way."

"That's true," Nick said with a tiny smile.

"I think I might be able to help you," the woman finally said. Opening her bag she rummaged a little in it before she got a baseball cap out of it, which she gave to Nick. "Put this on and follow me."

***

After Sean brought Christian and the book back to his apartment, still hoping the recipe Monroe suspected as the one the murdered Zauberbiest had used on Nick was the right one, he drove up to the precinct. Not as much as he was used to but he still had some work to do there.

But the more urgent problem was the possible spell Eric had put on Nick. They didn't know for sure, but at this moment anything was possible. As long as they didn't receive a message from either of them, Nick and Adalind were considered utterly off the grid. And Christian had told him that Nick had the order to use his phone only in the most important emergencies.

What had Eric done to Nick? And why had he put Adalind on his death-list?

The whole world seemed to be falling apart and he, Sean, was in the middle of it, trying to hold the pieces together.

The news that hurt as much as Kelly Burkhardt's death was that he had lost his only remaining eye and ear in Eric's household. It would probably take years before he could find another decent spy. And during this time he was blind in that eye, not knowing what could be coming for him. And that gave him another pain in the stomach.

Probably, so he tried to calm himself, Christian would be able to help him this time. Christian was a nice guy, liked by many people and always trying to make everything right. The possibility was high that he would be able to recruit one or two others for the job he just had to leave. But without an eye on Eric they both had to fear the worst 24/7. Which meant as soon as Eric found out about Christian's betrayal.

Sean wished he knew where Rosalee and Juliette went exactly. There was much news to share, and, of course, they had to find out what Eric's Zauberbiest servant had done to Nick.

Why kill a Grimm? Eric was obsessed with Grimm. For as long as Sean had lived, Eric had always wanted to get his hands on every Grimm the family knew about. There must be a plan other than only to restore the old powers, because Eric wanted those Grimm to follow him, not the family, not even their father.

King Frederick! Maybe Sean could leak the information he had about Eric to their father. If anyone could put an end to Eric's plans, it was the king. Unfortunately King Frederick was sick, and would most likely die in a future not too far along. Sean hadn't spoken to his father in years. Actually, it was Frederick who had given Sean the order to seize the key from Marie Kessler or her nephew, his detective,Nick Burkhardt, more than two years ago. If that order had come from Eric, Sean would have ignored it. But he couldn't ignore his own father.

After he entered the building and took the stairs up to the offices, he became convinced he should try. Even a sick and dying king still had enough power to hold Eric back. Not forever, but for time enough to hopefully keep Christian safe.

Sean crossed the first glass door between the office and the interrogation rooms. Out of the corner of his eye he caught something: someone leaning above the desk of another detective, the jacket, shoulders and haircut familiar.

What the hell?

Sean rounded the corner and moved forward to the main entrance, but stopped right in front of the open doors and looked.

The desk of detective Dublin had a visitor, and from the profile Sean was finally able to recognize his cousin, talking to the dark-haired detective.

Sean frowned, remembering Dublin on some other occasions being suddenly very busy with phone calls. She explained that being divorced and raising two kids – one of them being a teenager – was causing some trouble in her life.

Wait a minute!

Dublin was very interested in the cases Nick and Hank had solved. He'd found her more than once at their desk while the team was gone or had some down time. And for a moment Sean thought he remembered Dublin with the envelopes of the new photos for the badges four months ago.

Really?

He decided to look into her before accusing her. But he also thought he had just stumbled over the spy in his precinct. The bigger question: if Dublin worked for Eric, what the hell she had to do with Viktor?

Sean entered the office, trying to avoid looking at Dublin's desk and walking straight to his office when he heard Viktor calling him.

"There you are! Where have you been all day, cousin Sean?"

He felt the eyes of all the officers in the room staring at him, and stopped. Turning around, Sean lifted his eyebrows and acted surprised. "Some of us have to work hard for their living, cousin Viktor. What brings you all the way from the second precinct here?"

The whole atmosphere in the office changed. Everyone knew about what had happened to Hank, how he was treated, and that the whole case went south after the second precinct took over.

Viktor didn't seem to notice the cold looks he was getting. He sauntered over to Sean, studying him with an arrogant smile. "I know what you did," he said cryptically. "And for that, you will go down, cousin!"

Sean put his free hand on his hip and looked down at the shorter Royal. "Really? And for what will I go down?" he asked.

He knew Wu and this weird other sergeant from the second precinct had planned something for Hank. But he didn't even know what exactly.

Viktor's face turned into a mask of pure hatred and disgust. "You helped that Kehrseite flee from my holding cells. You helped a murderer. That's what you did!"

Sean was surprised, really surprised. And he hoped Wu and Gonzales had a better plan than just putting Hank on top of all Most Wanted lists in Oregon.

He heard mumbling from the officers, still angry but relieved to know one of their own was free again.

"As far as I know, Hank hasn't been convicted yet," Sean said, leaning with one shoulder at the corner of his office. "And I have no idea what you are talking about. You never even spoke to the DA or accused him officially. You only put him into your holding cells without giving him the rights the law has guaranteed him."

"He killed Remy Vaurrier!" Viktor snapped.

Sean tilted his head. "And you know that how? As far as I am concerned, Hank's hands are clean. He didn't fire a gun."

"He was found with the murder weapon in his hand! He IS the killer!"

Sean nodded. "So you are taking everything into your own hands now. You are detective, judge and executor?"

Mumbling all around them.

Sean stood up again, leaning above his cousin like a predator, a controlled, cold smile lifting the corners of his mouth. "Let me tell you something. You are not longer in your little castle in the highlands, here my father is not the ruler. The US government is. We have laws here, rules we protect and to which we obey. You broke those laws. You wanted to play policeman, and I have no idea why. But you screwed up! You let a proper case slip because you wanted to show everyone that you are better than we are. But you had no idea what you were doing. Whatever happened to Hank, I had nothing to do with it. But I think you are looking at the wrong precinct right now, accusing the wrong person. You failed your duty, cousin." He stared into Viktor's eyes, an angry line growing between his eyebrows. "And now, get the hell out of my precinct!"

Viktor's lips thinned. "You are going to pay for this!"

"First you, cousin. First you!"

Viktor stared at him for a very long moment. Then he turned on his heel and left. And Sean felt good for the first time that day.

***

Marion, the Loewen who had picked him and Adalind up at the shopping center, pulled over in front of an old house in one of the suburbs of Vienna. A nice two-story house which had recently been renovated on the outside, a small front yard with a garage made for two cars in front of it.

Nick frowned, suddenly not feeling too well about all of this.

"Didn't you say you were bringing us out of Vienna?" he asked.

Marion smiled and nodded. "I did. Let's go inside. There are not as many eyes as out here."

Nick looked over his shoulder after he felt a little touch on his arm. Adalind was sitting in the backseat, her big blue eyes fixed on his. "Are you really sure we should do this?" she asked.

If he knew ...

Nick looked again up to the house and couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. Marion had told them she would help bring them out of Vienna and yet they were still here. Perhaps closer to the border, but still within the city limits.

His instinct told him to trust the Loewen. And while his personal experiences with Loewen haven't been the best, he was willing to trust his own gut. But he also couldn't help himself. This was odd.

He nodded, feeling something inside him growing and couldn't really name it.

He was chained to Adalind until he found a way out of this situation. Their agreement to split up after they left Vienna wouldn't work, not with whatever Eric had done to him. So he had to take the bitter pill.

Loosing the seatbelt and opening the door, he finally followed Marion and her daughter Stefanie up to the house, Adalind behind him. Looking up at the white painted stone walls, he sighed before he entered.

Inside it was surprisingly light and roomy. A staircase right beyond the door let up to the second floor. Two steps down they entered the first floor, into a light but rustic dining room. A little smile grew on Nick's lips when he noticed an old handcrafted clock on one of the walls. It felt familiar to see this, reminding him of Monroe.

Stefanie ran up the stairs to the second floor without further notice while Marion led her guests into a huge living area with an open fireplace and a complete glassfront out to a sunroom and open terrace. It looked out at a well gardened backyard, including a small pont, some fruit trees and a small cubby house which surely belonged to Stefanie.

"Nice," Nick said, nodding, impressed and with a slightly bruised conscience. He remembered the countless times when he wanted to work in the backyard of Juliette's house, only to give up under all kinds of excuses only half an hour later. Juliette was the one who loved the garden, but with her job as a vet she barely had the spare time to really get into it.

Marion smiled and offered them the couch near the huge floor-to-ceiling windows. "A drink? Tea? Water? Coffee?"

Nick nodded. "Coffee would be great, thanks."

It still felt weird and he wasn't completely sure if he should trust her. Watching her leaving the living area let grow a stone in his stomach. But they needed help.

"Do you really think we should trust her? She's Wesen!" Adalind said, sitting down on the couch.

Nick took a deep breath and looked into the backyard.

True, his experiences with Loewen weren't exactly all positive but he really trusted Marion, not knowing why. Maybe because she stayed by his side while he slowly died back in the shopping center. Maybe because she already had plenty of chances to betray them and hadn't used one of them.

Adalind started to rummage in her bag again.

"Do you know what Eric did to me?" Nick broke the silence after he couldn't take it anymore.

Adalind stopped and looked up at him. "I ... you said he—" She closed her mouth, looking worried now.

"You've noticed what happens when we try to split up, right?" Nick asked, watching Adalind nod in the glass reflection. "Do you know what spell that is?"

She paused, not moving. When Nick turned around he saw her frowning, eyes empty as she tried to think about possible spells.

"Do you know?" he repeated.

Adalind shook her head. "I cannot tell as long as I don't know the ingredients," she answered.

Nick looked at her, lips thinned, nostrils widened.

Again there was that deep and boiling hatred, emerging from the bottom of his heart.

Why didn't he kill her when he had the chance back in Portland? He would never have ended up here, as a captive of the Royals, unable to understand the people here, helpless and under a spell.

Adalind tilted her head. "Are you okay?"

Nick took another deep breath, but in the next moment Marion came back, carrying a tray with three cups.

"Please, sit down." Marion smiled at him, placing one of the cups in front of an empty armchair, the second one in front of Adalind, the third to the second armchair she seated herself in.

Nick sighed and took the other one, looking at her and frowning. "Why are you helping us?" he asked. "No offense, but I'm not really used to getting help."

Marion smiled into her mug and sipped before she answered. "I'm helping you, Grimm. She," she nodded to Adalind, "is part of the deal right now. I assume Hexenbiest, right?"

Adalind's lips thinned.

"Former one," Nick corrected. "She's human now."

Marion put the mug back on the table. "So, it wasn't her who put you under the spell?"

"I'm sorry, but maybe you haven't noticed – you are willing to help a Grimm!" Adalind snapped. "And not only a Grimm. He's the one who killed my Hexenbiest, and he killed my mother."

Nick rolled his eyes. "I already told you ..."

"That is not my concern," Marion interrupted him, still staring at Adalind. "I'm helping a Grimm because this Grimm isn't like the ones we all have heard about. No Grimm has ever fought for us, no Grimm ever tried to understand us. I think that deserves a little credit, especially in his current condition. Whatever is between you two doesn't bother me. Not as long as you have to stay at his side until the spell is broken."

"So, you know?" Nick asked.

Marion nodded and leaned back. "And as for why you are here, have you ever heard of the Turkish siege?" she asked.

Nick exchanged a look with Adalind. "I'm not sure I have," he then answered. "Why?"

Marion smiled. "The Turks tried to undermine Vienna with tunnels to get access to the city. Most of those tunnels have been sealed or filled now. There's only one left as far as I know."

Adalind and Nick exchanged another look.

Marion nodded. "Yes, you are sitting right above it. That's your way out of Vienna."


	12. The Visitor

A/N: First of all many, many thanks again to Merlyn Pyndragon for all the effort she's putting into betaing this story (and the other one as well :P).

Secondly, I'm sorry that this took so long. I left the Grimm-fandom and I'm really struggling to keep writing this story because I don't like leaving something unfinished behind. And I have a clear vision where to lead this story. But with completely loosing interest in the show it's hard to keep writing. It's sad but so far I'm still fighting the good fight to give you a finished story in the end. But please be patient as I'm barely able to write more than a handful sentences per day now.

In this spirit, thanks for all the encouraging messages and pleas to update this story. I don't know how long it will take but I try my best to give you the complete story.

 

When Wu finally made it home, he was more than ready for watching a little TV before heading to bed and finding the sleep he'd missed for so long. At least, he hoped he would find a little rest, now that everything was cleared and Nick, as far as Renard had told him, was free. Hopefully Nick would be back in Portland soon after all the money Renard, he and the others had spent on a car, the ticket and a lot of supplies.

Wu was wondering what would happen now to Renard's friend, who had to get himself out of Austria and Europe himself after he helped Nick. Maybe another rockie? Would be nice. Wu definitely looked forward to meeting this mysterious Christian.

Renard wasn't pleased at all about the plan Wu and Rico had come up with to get Hank out of the second precinct. Wu still thought it was a good one, but who was he to judge his own plan? Besides that he couldn't do anything anymore now. Rico was the mastermind behind the most of said plan, including Hank escaping together with his Wesen girlfriend.

Wu sighed and wished Juliette back into town. At least he would have one normal human being he could talk to about all this weird stuff. But Juliette was still looking for her uncle, or perhaps had just met him. Wu wasn't sure what he anticipated the most. Only having Juliette back as a voice of reason and wisdom in his upside-down turned life or a future when this madness finally calmed down in any way.

With a deep sigh Wu opened the fire-door and entered the floor where his apartment was. He would at least pretend that everything was normal tonight. That was all he wanted. In a paper bag he carried fries and two burgers, and he was looking forward to an ice-cold beer right after he turned on the TV. Not completely sure what to watch, he would watch something, anything. Hopefully one of his good old favourite movies but he could live with anything tonight. Anything not horror or fantasy like.

But just when he came around the corner, one hand in his pocket to get his keys, Wu stopped in the middle of the movement, staring with wide eyes at a woman who was pacing the hallway in front of his apartment, up and down in an endless, restless walk.

Wu blinked, trying to pull himself together, before he started walking again, very controlled in his movements and eager to look relaxed.

"What a surprise," he greeted his unexpected guest. "What brings you here?"

Hearing his voice, the woman turned around on her heels, staring at him for a split second before storming at him, throwing her arms around him. "Drew, thank the Lord! Finally you are here!"

Wu was stunned, plain and simple. He was so baffled that he was only able to return the embrace, his nose deep into her hair and taking deep breaths out of it.

Good God, she still used the same shampoo! And he loved it, like he loved so much about her. She was his big love, the only one he'd ever wanted. Unfortunately she only saw him as a good friend ...

"Dana, what are you doing here?" Wu finally asked.

Dana was married. He had been Best Man for her husband. No matter how much doing that had torn his heart apart, he was there for them, and he was there after Sam, Dana's husband, lost his job. Got the couple not only into the States but also found a job for Sam. Here, in Portland. Funny thing, Wu had barely seen him since they moved here.

"I needed one other person with a clear mind," Dana told him. "This whole thing seems to drive everybody crazy! I cannot stand that anymore."

Wu smirked. At least one person thought of him as reasonable person. That's quite more than what he thought of himself right now.

Dana let him go. Blushing, she stepped backwards. "Excuse me. I was worried about whether you would come home or not." She shrugged. "I know I could have called the precinct and asked there. But ... I need someone to talk to."

Looking at him with her wild hair and tears in her eyes, Wu put his original plan for the evening on the backseat and smiled. "It's okay. Come on in if you like." He walked up to the door to his apartment and put the key in the lock before he hesitated. Looking over his shoulder he asked: "You know I've a cat, right? And you are not allergic, if I recall correctly."

Dana nodded. "Your cat has a doggy name, I remember," she answered with a smile.

"Don't let Caesar know what you think of his name!" Wu smiled back and opened the door.

If Caesar had heard Dana, Wu couldn't tell. The cat was gone, hidden in one of his countless hideouts within the small apartment when Wu came in, following Dana and still fighting to calm down and bring his heart rate back to normal.

Dana, his beautiful Dana. The love of his life. She had never been here before. He hadn't even known that she knew where he stayed.

They had met in childhood when Wu was visiting Manila with his parents and was staying at his grandmother's. Dana lived only two or three houses down the street, and she came, like so many others, to listen to what Grandma Wu had to say. Grandma Wu, he remembered, was a storyteller and she knew a lot of stuff, all of the old legends and fairytales. And when she was in the mood she created new ones which left her audience breathless and sometimes terrified.

Yes, Wu remembered that very well. He loved to go to Manila and find out more about his roots. And after he met Dana he fell even more in love with the Philippines, only for her.

He didn't know why it was always only friendship from Dana, but he was okay with it as long as he could meet her, write letters, be there for summer vacations. When Dana came to New York, where Wu had been born and raised, to study, he felt like he had gone to heaven. The university was where Dana met Sam and fell in love with him – which was funny as Sam's family only lived a street away from Dana's house in Manila – and Wu's little world crashed down once more. He never showed to her or Sam his real feelings. Maybe that was the problem.

Dana looked around. This was the first time she had visited him at his apartment. Usually they met somewhere in the city for a coffee, or he was at her and Sam's house for dinner. So far they may have met four or five times since the couple moved to Portland after Sam got a new job here. Something Wu had worked on hard too. He'd helped them both to settle down after the huge move from the Philippines, first to New York and then to Oregon. After that the battle at the container yard happened and left Wu in such a desolate state that he did everything to avoid Dana, who called him nearly every day.

"You've it nice here," she said now and nodded. With a little smile she took one of the cat figures from the shelf and showed it to Wu. "It's good to know it's got a new home with someone who's carrying for it."

Wu blushed, remembering the cat figurine was a gift from Dana and the first piece of his collection. It wasn't that he'd ever asked for more cat figurines, everyone seemed to think that he, as owner of a cat, also loved to collect those. And with that Wu got cats in all sizes and from all material he could think of. Most of them adorable kittens in adorable poses.

"Yeah, I keep it safe from Caesar," Wu explained a little lamely, and put the paper bag with the fries and burgers on the table. "You want something to drink? Eat? I've burgers and fries but I could also look into my fridge ..."

"I'm good, thanks." Dana smiled and put the cat back on the shelf.

Wu nodded, not really knowing what to do next.

There must be a reason why Dana was here but he couldn't really figure out why. It wasn't like they were together all the time so he knew what had bitten her in the very next moment. But he didn't want to force her into explaining herself at the same time. He simply loved that she came to him, obviously searching for a solution to a problem he had yet to know.

"It's good to have you around, you know that, Drew?" she asked.

Wu felt warmth in his cheeks and turned around, away from her. "Don't call me that," he said, trying to sound light.

"You still have issues with your first name?" Dana was surprised. "I've heard about that from others. But I'd never expected that it is so hard for you. What's wrong with Andrew?"

To stay at the most important first: his first name wasn't exactly what everybody would expect. And back in childhood days in Manila, it was hard to be the outsider, the one who went away at the end of summer. The one with the foreign name. Others made fun of it, and with the years and all the spent visits, Wu learned to hate his first name. He couldn't recall when he exactly started to avoid it, to stick to his last name only.

Wu shrugged. "I don't like it, that's all," he said, looking over his shoulder after the highest heat in his cheeks was gone. "Nothing for you to worry about. That's more up to me now, right?" He tried a smile, not sure how Dana would react.

She smiled back – sad and tired. Suddenly Wu thought she looked pretty exhausted.

Wu pointed at the small dining area. "Let's have a seat and talk, watcha think? Why did you come to me? What's the problem?"

Dana turned and moved the first chair she could lay her hand on to sit down. "It's ... Lani," she said then with a sigh. "Or better it's Lani and Sam."

Wu frowned and took a chair close to hers. "What's the matter with your husband and your mother-in-law?" he asked. "I mean, I know you and Lani aren't besties but she always loved Sam and wouldn't harm him. What's different now? The distance?"

Dana shook her head, staring down at her lap, where her hands were busy kneading each other. "No, it's not the distance," she answered, hesitantly. Still avoiding Wu's eyes she continued. "Sam is mad with me because I let Lani know about my condition. And Lani wants to come over, to help me over the next few months. Sam doesn't want her anywhere near me but he's not telling me why."

Wu startled. "Your con... OH!"

For a moment it seemed to him like the earth had started to shake, ready to swallow him at once. His heart was breaking after he realized what Dana just said without actually saying it. And the next words to speak choked him.

"Congratulations. I'm happy for you."

Dana blushed again and smiled a sad smile. "I'm sorry, Drew. I knew this must be upsetting for you."

Wu tucked a smile on his lips. "Nonsense! Surely I'm happy for you, for both of you!" He let open for which two.

Then again he frowned. "But I thought Sam would love his mother to help. Why is he pushing her away now?" He thought about what he knew about the family of Dana's husband. "There's nothing wrong inside the family, is there?" he asked then.

Dana shook her head again. "That's what I don't understand. Everything was fine just until I told Lani that I was pregnant. Suddenly she wants to come here. And after I told Sam that I told his mother ... he wasn't really pleased but he's keeping me out. He's skyping with his family a lot and lately he's fighting with Lani every time they talk. I've no idea what's going on."

"Is it Lani's first grandchild?" he wanted to know then.

Dana nodded.

"Mystery solved!" Wu shrugged. "Grandparents are overwhelming, especially when they are becoming grannies and grandpas for the first time. Sam surely is a little greedy right now because Lani will share her love with the baby. You hear that often in my job." He smiled and touched Dana's hands gently. "Nothing to worry about, believe me."

But there was a weird feeling inside him ...

***

Eric felt like he was going to explode in anger any second.

First the Grimm escaped. And when he, Eric, finally came back to his castle he found police on his doorstep, called in because of a murder in the kitchen! Not to mention that his father was going to show up here in a few days. There was also the Adalind problem. Not that that would be such a huge issue after the spell started to work on Nick – or had started to work on him after he touched Adalind the first time. But Eric wanted this murder under controlled circumstances, not somewhere in Vienna where the chance was high that Nick would be arrested right after he got rid of Adalind. The Grimm on the loose ... that was a worst-case scenario right now after what Eric had done to Nick. And not to talk about Hans, who would probably ignore Eric's orders to bring Nick back alive and unharmed.

Police in the castle! They turned the whole place upside down to find evidence. And they asked questions, getting answers Eric couldn't control either.

Now, finally, after more than a day tearing the castle apart, the police had left them, in a chaos that would give the maids work for more than a week!

Eric needed answers. Unfortunately, not only had Pierre been the victim, but Christian was nowhere to be found. Eric could only guess that his private secretary had returned to the hospital. The injuries looked pretty serious. And if Christian had gone in a hurry, it was understandable that he hadn't left a note. It was more of a question why, if this scenario was the truth, Christian didn't call after he was checked into the hospital again.

He had to think about so many things at once, he would lose track of some, Eric realized. And to avoid this he needed Christian. Christian could run the daily matters on his own, and that would mean a lot less pressure for Eric at the moment. And Christian was the only one Eric trusted enough to run the businesses if Nick and Adalind escaped Vienna. Christian already had a proxy; Eric would only reassign the terms of this proxy.

But that was worst case. Eric still hoped Nick would show his face at one point, hopefully after he got rid of Adalind, as the spell Pierre had placed on him demanded in the last state. Nick would be much easier to control after that and hopefully it would only take a statement from Eric to lead his tamed Grimm back to the castle then.

That brought Eric to the question of why Eloise was taking so long in bringing him Nick's fiancée?

Degenhuber, his security chief, entered the office and bowed before Eric just after the Royal started to think about the new baronesse.

"Your highness," Degenhuber said.

Eric sighed and pulled a face. "What?"

It was clear that Degenhuber didn't have the best news for him. The Hundjaeger still stared at the ground, flinching and obviously trying to buy a little more time.

"What?" Eric repeated, this time more insistent.

"Your highness, I think we all have to realize that there was a traitor here at the castle. And I think we all know who this traitor is," Degenhuber said.

"And it took you two days to realize that?" Eric asked, full of sarcasm. "Wow, I think I employed the next Einstein here!"

"Your highness, I was suspecting it earlier, when we found out he'd disappeared. But I hesitated to tell you. It's best known that you trust him." Degenhuber lowered his head and stared at his shoes after this words, as though he expected Eric to try to behead him.

It only took the blink of an eye to realize about whom was Degenhuber talking about.

"Are you seriously offering me that as the truth?" Eric asked. "On what grounds?"

Degenhuber didn't look too happy. "Your highness, he isn't anywhere here! And he's the only one missing. I really think we should accept that Christian is the traitor."

Eric's stomach cringed and a sharp pain in his temple made him clench his fists. "That is absolutely impossible!" he snapped.

Degenhuber sighed. "Your highness, think ..."

"I said that isn't possible!" Eric's voice was smaller but colder now. Nonetheless it seemed he had screamed at Degenhuber.

"In case you missed it: Christian was robbed by one of the known members of the resistance," Eric continued. "And Meisner wasn't gentle in this case. Christian came here from the hospital, heavily injured. It is most likely that you will find him in one of the hospitals in Vienna, and not plotting against me!"

"I hope so for you, your highness," Degenhuber mumbled.

In that moment there was a knock at the door.

Eric looked up, frowning. "What is it now? I'm busy!"

"I have the information my d... Mister Degenhuber wanted me to report," came the answer.

Eric tilted his head and looked to Degenhuber. "You wanted, eh?"

Degenhuber shrugged. "I'm sorry."

Suddenly Eric was tired. The day had been more than merely exhausting. And arguing with Hans Severin and the Verrat wasn't the right recipe to relax. At least, he had to admit, Degenhuber did do something, even if this "doing" was nothing more than training his son.

"What is this information you have to bring Mister Degenhuber?"

The door opened a little and a boy's head peeked into the office. He woged and blushed at the same time when he saw Eric standing there. "Your ... your highness—" The head bowed.

Degenhuber winked. "Come on in, Stefan."

The boy—Eric realized it was more like a very young man, not older than eight- or nineteen— came in hesitantly, avoiding to look into Eric's direction.

"What did you find out?" Degenhuber's voice was warm and calm, helping the boy, Stefan, to concentrate.

"I checked the flight-lists," Stefan answered and offered his father a sheet of paper. "And ... and I found a name there."

"What name?" Eric demanded to know.

Stefan woged again, which made Eric roll his eyes.

So pathetic!

"Christian's, your highness," Stefan finally answered, now offering him the sheet of paper. "He took a flight. That's why we cannot find him."

Eric frowned. "This has to be a mistake," he said and grabbed the paper.

Christian's name was marked, along with the flight-number.

"Where did he go?" Eric wanted to know, certain that this was nothing more than a stupid mistake. Surely there was another man with the same name around. A guy who took a plane, maybe for vacation, maybe business. A guy who surely not was Christian.

"Vienna to New York," Stefan answered, his voice nothing more than a tiny whisper. "And from JFK to Portland International." He stopped and looked down to his feet. "I'm sorry, your highness."

This felt like someone just had pulled away the concrete ground from underneath his feet ...

***

After a nap on a bed instead of a stone park bench, followed by some homemade food and coffee, Nick felt like himself again. The house was pretty big, something that he hadn't expected after seeing the front. But he thought it might be a trick of the eye because this house was built on a hill and carved into said hill. What appeared on one side as a normal two-story house turned on the backside out as four floors to the ground. Not to mention the cellar underneath the ground floor on the back.

It felt weird but good. These people were willing to help them. After dark the Americans would leave Vienna, and Nick really hoped this would be the last time he saw this city. As much as Vienna seemed to be charming, it was dangerous, especially for someone like him. Too dangerous right now.

Marion was busy in the kitchen; he heard her rummaging. Besides the three of them, they were alone in the house now, Marion's daughter gone. Nick suspected the girl being away kept her safe in case someone had seen him and Adalind entering the house.

Nick felt the long missed weight of the cellphone in his pocket and had again to resist the overwhelming desire to call Juliette or one of the others. He missed them all so much and he would be more than grateful to have someone at his side he knew and could trust. As much as he believed Marion, he would feel much better with Monroe or Hank having his back, or Rosalee, who surely would have been buried underneath books by now to figure out what was wrong with him.

Nick sighed. Christian had told him calling was for emergencies only. And so far this wasn't an emergency, not as long as Adalind was within reach.

But maybe ...

A key moved in a lock, then Nick heard the front door open and he held his breath, listening to footsteps coming down the hall, feeling his heart pounding faster once more.

Whistling a song Nick didn't know, a man came down the stairs, playing with his keys and at first not noticing the stranger in the house. Nick didn't really know what to do, so he decided to play nice.

"Good evening," he greeted the stranger, who at first nodded, still lost in the song he was whistling. Then he stopped moving and whistling. Slowly he lifted his head and looked to Nick, blinking behind glasses.

He had warm eyes, Nick realized, warm and friendly. He looked at him with some interest but without fear.

"Another stray my wife picked up from the street?" the stranger finally asked. He used English, but with the hard accent of a German.

Nick raised one eyebrow. Stray? He?

"David? Did I just hear you coming home?" Marion called from the kitchen. "I have some ..." She came around the corner, hands drying on her apron she stopped in the middle of the hall. "Oh! You already met." She blinked at both men, obviously trying to assess about the situation.

"Yeah, I just met ... what's the name?" the man with the glasses, David, asked.

"I'm Nick," Nick answered and smiled.

David turned to Marion and looked at her, concerned. "I really hope you don't overuse our little secret. I didn't spend all the time and effort in renovating them to see them closed for good and us, in best case, in jail because we helped one time too often."

Nick turned to Marion, then looked again to David. "I didn't mean to ..." He stopped, not really knowing what to say. The tunnel was the only way out of town so long as every other exit was being watched.

"There's enough police and security out there on the streets to stop a revolution," David continued. "Looks like something's happened with the prince."

"Not with the prince," Nick corrected, automatically. After he realized what he just said he cursed himself silently.

"Excuse me?" David looked at him again. "I don't mind you being in my house or using the tunnels. But I think you've no idea what we are talking about. American, right? What happened? You lost your papers?"

Nick shrugged, not feeling too well in this situation.

"Actually, no. I don't think he had his papers with him when he was brought here," Marion said.

"So?"

"I'm one part of the reason why there is so much police and security is out there," Nick finally confessed, still not sure how much he could explain.

"We should really talk about this, David." Marion came closer.

"Where's the kid?" David asked.

"With a friend. I gave permission that she can have a sleepover."

David sighed and crossed his arms before his chest, watching Nick again. "And why are all those people out there looking for an American?" he asked.

Nick shrugged again and glanced to Marion. Suddenly he understood why Adalind thought he was crazy to trust a complete stranger.

"I'm a Grimm," Nick finally answered, hoping that would explain it. He was awaiting David to woge in front of him, but nothing happened.

Instead, David blinked again and looked at his wife. "Weren't Grimm the badasses in your bedtime stories? Isn't he supposed to be your villain?"

Nick understood. "You are human!"

"Of course I am." Finally David moved, leaving Nick and Marion alone in the hall while he went down to the kitchen.

"He's a Kehrseite. That's what we call humans," Marion explained.

Nick remembered. "I know. A good friend of mine is a Blutbad. He explained that to me for a while," he said, following David with Marion on his side.

And there it was again, the sad feeling. Nick knew he was homesick. He wanted to be back in Portland, with Juliette, solving crimes with Hank, having some beers with Monroe. Instead he was now what Marion's husband called a stray, homeless and in flight. It felt so wrong ...

"You are really unusual!" Marion shook her head, walking ahead to be at her husband's side.

Nick watched their backs, a sad smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

Yes, he was different. He had to realize this during his time as Eric's prisoner. And he was grateful that Aunt Marie told him to hunt only the bad Wesen, that he decided himself to do so. He was a Grimm and a cop, just like he'd told the Eisbibers two years ago. And, if Hans and Franz were the standard for Grimms, then he never wanted to be anything like them!

Following the couple into the kitchen, Nick was diving into his thoughts.

Marion was talking in a low voice to her husband. Nick was sure she was trying to explain the situation to him. And he started to wonder if she was mentioning Adalind in this explanation. So far Marion hadn't been interested in her at all. On the other hand, right now Adalind was part of the package as long as they haven't found a cure for what was wrong with him.

Rosalee would most likely know, Nick thought again. And if she didn't already know she would search her books until she found something.

Again he thought about the cellphone in his pocket, but he resisted. It was hard, especially after he realized that he really was chained to Adalind. Rosalee would find an answer, she would know what to do and she would succeed. The question was if Marion would be able to do that too. And Nick pretty much doubted that.

In the kitchen was Adalind, sitting at a table, a cup of tea in front of her, reading a paper Nick never had heard about before.

David only lifted an eyebrow, that was all reaction Adalind got. So Nick has been more lucky ...

Davidl glanced to the table again Nick noticed, and sighed before he turned around to him and started to talk:

"We will start here after sunset. It's better during the night; not as many people on the streets who might hear us."

Nick nodded. "Understood."

"I hope so." David sighed again, taking another look of Adalind. But now, Nick realized, David wasn't looking at her, he was looking at the little mountain of food Marion had put on the table. Food for Nick and Adalind until they found another village or town.

"Thank you for your patience and help," Nick said.

David turned around to him again. For a very long moment he simply watched Nick before he finally started to nod. "You are welcome." A little smile grew on David's face ...

***

Monroe was fixing one of the clocks he'd gotten from a customer in Sweden when the telephone in the Spice Shop began to ring. Keeping his patience, he first tightened a tiny screw before he put away his tools and went to the front.

"Rosalee's Tea and Spice Shop. Monroe's speaking," he greeted after he picked up the receiver, wondering who wanted to call him.

"Monroe?" he was asked from a voice he first didn't recognize.

"Yes?"

"It's me, Nick," the voice continued.

And Monroe's heart jumped in excitement. "I've heard you are on the run," he said with a bright smile. "I hope you are calling from an airport?"

"Not directly," the voice answered. "Listen, Monroe, I need to know some things. Can you tell me?"

Monroe frowned. "Yeah, of course I can. What's wrong?"

"It's not safe from where I'm calling. So I will keep this as short as possible, okay?"

"Not to mention the roaming fee, huh? Must be pretty intense," Monroe said.

"You could go there ..." The voice faded away for a moment.

"So, what's the matter?" Monroe couldn't help himself, he had a big grin on his face which didn't go away, no matter how hard he tried to stop it.

"Do you have any idea where Juliette is? I tried to call her on her cell, at home and at the clinic. I know it sounds weird but I really need to know."

Monroe frowned. "You tried to call Juliette but she didn't pick up?" He thought for a moment, trying to remember the last call from Nick from Christian's cell phone. Nick knew what Juliette and Rosalee had planned back then. Monroe remembered Juliette telling him that she wanted to go to her uncle to find out more about her own Grimmness and maybe discover a possibility to end her powers. So why would Nick ask where Juliette was? He knew she was gone, and no one knew how long it would take her to find her uncle.

The voice! It didn't really sound like Nick, and not only because the line was a bad one. Monroe's grin died on his lips.

"I don't know," he answered then. "Maybe her cellphone died because she forgot to charge it."

"But do you know where she might be right now?" the voice asked.

"Nope, sorry," Monroe answered and turned around, looking to the entrance to the shop, hoping a customer would come in. But of course there was no costumer when he needed one!

"You sure? She trusts you," the voice asked again.

"Well, as far as I remember she trusts you even more," Monroe said. "I'm sorry but I fear I've to go now. Catch your flight, Nick. I'm sure Juliette will be here when you will arrive. Oh, do you know when?"

The line was suddenly dead. And Monroe looked at the receiver, still frowning.

That was not Nick. But ... who then?

***

The tunnel was small and dark, old timber steadying the stone face of the ceiling. Nick was sure in better light he would actually see the marks of the tools the workers had used back in the day.

He could barely stand upright in the low tunnel, carrying the heavy backpack. He followed David through the maze of passages, some half caved in, others wide open. From somewhere around he could hear the sounds of tools and shivered, for a moment overwhelmed by superstition.

"This is creepy!" Adalind whispered behind him. The narrow but long space magnified the volume and let an echo grow.

"Sht!" came the order from ahead. David had stopped, the light of his lantern moving from one side to the other, illuminating the dark mouth of another tunnel for a moment. "I thought they would have been done by now," he mumbled.

Nick realized that there really were workers down here, somewhere in the other tunnels surrounding them. There was not only the one Marion mentioned, which started (or ended) at her house – there was an entire maze underneath Vienna's suburbs, hand-carved and renovated by someone who was still hard at work.

"Who is down here?" he whispered.

David, crunched over like himself, managed to look back at him. The light of his lantern kept half of his face in the shadows but illuminated the straight line on his forehead. David seemed to be worried about something.

"Grabenklauer," the answer came from behind, where Marion was watching as the end of their little group. "Tunnel building Wesen, a little like moles. There's a small community of them around. They have kept the tunnels repaired over the past few centuries."

Nick nodded and looked over his shoulder to see Adalind's reaction, but she didn't seem affected. He didn't know if she knew about these Wesen at all.

"Will there be a problem with them?" he asked.

"I hope not. But they are not very fond of others using the tunnels. They think they own them. We are tolerated because my grandparents, who built the house, opened the tunnels for them," David explained.

The sound of tools stopped, replaced by muffled voices. Nick tried his best but he couldn't make out what was said, only that there were at least three different persons talking.

"Keep quiet," David ordered and stepped forward.

Nick sighed quietly and followed. The backpack and the low ceiling started to get to him. His back hurt, and the tunnel around him seemed to constrict further. Trying to keep his fear of tight spaces locked up deep in his mind, he followed David as quietly as he could.

Adalind behind him was the only one in their little group who could go upright, and Nick was a little jealous right now.

If they were attacked he probably was in the worst position, not able to stand upright, with the heavy weight on his shoulders. No, this was no position he wanted to be in, but he didn't have any other option.

Counting his breaths, he followed David.

Somewhere around them some tiny rocks were falling. Hitting the ground, the sounds reverberated beyond and behind them.

Nick shivered, trying not to think about tight spaces at all.

The sounds of tools meeting stone returned and relaxed him for a second.

This was weird! It was so wrong! He didn't do anything bad. He should have been able to leave this damned city on ground level instead of through a manmade, century-old tunnel underneath the feet of those chasing him.

Adalind slipped, the sound carrying again, growing into a seemingly deafening echo.

"Watch your feet!" David ordered.

The tools stopped again, a voice asking something. Nick held his breath, not really knowing what to expect.

"It's me!" David shouted. "Don't worry, guys. We just wanted to take a little walk."

Again they stopped, waiting.

Nick looked to the ceiling when he heard something above his head. This ceiling wasn't made of stone. It was bare soil. And within this soil there was something light. Brownish but of weird shape. It seemed to look down at him ...

It took him a moment to realize that he looked into the eyes of a skull and couldn't help but jump a step back. Soil from the walls crumbled to the ground.

"Keep calm, man!" David ordered over his shoulder. "You might be a good guy but don't forget what you are and how those guys might think of you. You don't want them as your enemies."

Nick nodded.

Rookie! he thought of himself.

The Grabenklauer seemed to be satisfied with David's explanation, and the sounds of tools meeting stone returned a second time.

"We will be coming to a hall soon," David explained over his shoulder. "Usually there's no problem, not at this time at night. But there might be some of them there right now, as it's a passageway throughout the maze. Let me go ahead, check the air. If it's clear we are half way through."

Nick nodded again.

"Half way? That would make the other half of the night until we can leave this tomb!" Adalind complained.

"If you want to try the roads above ground, go ahead!" Marion hissed.

Adalind shut up but gave the Lowen an angry stare.

David sped up a little as the tunnel grew taller. Nick sighed, relieved to be able to stand upright again. His back hurt even more now.

"Wait here!" David ordered and vanished around a corner of the tunnel. Nick saw more light ahead of them. It seemed they had made it to the hall.

"It shouldn't take long," Marion told them.

And only a minute later David's voice was audible: "All clear! But hurry!"

Nick moved again. A second too late he realized that David had used his normal voice. That meant there was something wrong, because the echoes now danced all throughout the maze of tunnels. Too late to stop, with Adalind close behind him, Nick hoped for the best – but entered the hall to his worst.

There were six of them. Hundjaeger. And those six had cornered a handful of people, including David. Nick saw some of the strangers woge into something he'd never seen before: pale skin, small black eyes, huge claws on their hands. They reminded him a lot of naked moles. And they were afraid, near a panic, when they saw him.

The Hundjaegers grinned with sharp teeth, ready to do what was necessary to catch him again.

"Stay back!" Nick ordered, but didn't have time to prepare himself before the first of the Hundjaegers came at him.

Nick wished he had a weapon but he could do with bare hands as well, and he knew it. He let slip the door to his soul open, embraced the darkness that came out of his very core. The Grimm took over, the warrior with the ability to stand and fight Wesen.

The Hundjaeger didn't have a chance. Nick got him by his jaw, jerking his head around in one fluid movement and feeling the one short snap when the neck broke. The first attacker went down not knowing that his own power had taken him out.

Nick loosened the straps of the backpack while he went to meet the second Hungjaeger. Getting the heavy bag from his back, he threw it like a weight, hitting a third Hundjaeger and knocking him off balance.

A shot was fired in his direction but Nick was faster. Diving forward he rolled over his shoulder, grabbing one of the tools the Grabenklauers had most likely brought with them before the Hundjaeger had cornered them: an axe. Rolling back to his feet again, now armed with this tool-turned-weapon, Nick went after the second Hundjaeger, throwing the axe at him. The sharp edge of the tool impaled the Hundjaeger, who only had the time to yelp once before he died.

A fourth Hundjaeger was above him, trying to get hold of him. Nick dived under the grabbing arms. Turning with one smooth movement, he got hold of the pistol his opponent was carrying, and the magazine emptied into the chest of this fourth attacker. Nick rolled to his feet a third time, using the dying body as shield when more shots were fired. He realized these shots weren't aimed at all, but loosened in panic.

Marion was above another Hundjaeger while the Grabenklauers, suddenly noticing that they outnumbered the remaining Hundjaegers, fought the one who got Nick's backpack in the chest.

Where was the last one?

Nick knew if he let even one of these Hundjaegers escape, Eric would chase him down, no matter the distance between them. Eric would know eventually that the Grimm had left Vienna, but Nick had counted on gaining much ground before then. If the Hundjaegers got away, Eric not only would know immediately, he would also know Nick had help and most likely punish the Grabenklauer community, Marion and her family. And that Nick couldn't let happen!

He turned on his heels, searching for the last Hundjaeger, and froze for a second when he spotted him, holding Adalind and pointing a gun at her head.

"Stop fighting!" the Wesen demanded. "Grimm, you will come with me back to the castle. Or I will kill her!"

Marion, woged into her Lowen form, and David emerged on Nick's side, while the Grabenklauers vanished with their victim into one of the tunnels. Nick saw blood on Marion's face from the corner of his eye. So her opponent wasn't a problem anymore. Which left the one who held Adalind hostage the last one.

The Wesen seemed to realize this as well. He was nervous, his hands shaking. Adalind looked terrified but didn't move.

"You hear me, Grimm? You and your companions will come with me," the Hundjaeger ordered again.

Nick frowned, not really impressed, and turned to look for the backpack. David looked at him, surprised.

"Hey! Don't you move! Or I will kill her!" the Hundjaeger ordered.

Nick turned around and made a waving gesture. "Go ahead, do it," he said, taking the backpack from the ground and throwing it over one shoulder. Adalind stared at him with wide eyes, as did the Hundjaeger.

"I don't care about her. But maybe the prince will. You are holding his fiancée hostage. And she is carrying his child." Nick smiled. "I'm pretty sure he will be happy to hear that you threatened to kill his future wife and mother of his heir. I don't care. Have fun with her."

"What the ... ?" the Hundjaeger yelped.

And now Adalind reacted. "How dare you!" she cried, stepping hard on the foot of the Hundjaeger, placing her elbow into his stomach. "Nick Burkhardt, how dare you! After all I have been through with you the last couple of days!"

Nick's smile faded. Instead he lifted the gun he'd taken from the ground when he grabbed the backpack. He didn't hesitate, barely aimed, and pulled the trigger ...


End file.
